Scion: Ragnarok
by Syreene
Summary: It's a rainy night when a Scion of Dionysus, Hatchiman, Heimdall and Tyr enter the diner... and before they leave they're going to discover that Winter is indeed coming... and it's bringing Ragnarok with it. Rated T for Language
1. A Dark and Stormy Night

_This story is based upon the Scion RPG campaign I'm currently in with 3 friends of mine. We each wrote our parts and I'm doing my best to piece it all together into this cohesive story. ^_^ - Emily_

It always starts with something small.

Well, that's pretty much bullshit. Truth is, we – the gods of old, the gods mankind thought they'd outgrown and discarded – have always been fighting an uphill battle. I rather sympathize with that Sisyphus fellow that's still pushing his rock up the damned hill. Mankind has advanced, and they've done some truly amazing things, some of which has come on the backs of some truly horrible things. War. Nuclear weapons. Laws, just and unjust. Stupidity that makes the caprice of the gods seem harmless.

History is nothing but the opening act for the End of All Things.

"Hey, Marcone! How's that foundation break-down going?"

"Slow," Marcone frowned. "Unless you wanna pick up a spare jackhammer and pitch in."

"Hey, no, I'm having enough fun with this brick-and-rebar FUBAR."

Marcone spat into the dirt. "What was this place, a bank?"

"Office building for some rich guy. World War II type, died last year," his co-worker said.

Marcone looked around the work site. What should have been a routine knock-down of an old building had been complicated by reinforced construction. "Yeah, I suppose all this built-to-last stuff makes sense, then. Probably thought the Commies were gonna parachute in and take the place over."

"Vegas? Lots of glitz, but who in their right mind would want this hell hole?"

"Gotta keep your gold bars somewhere," his co-worker laughed.

"Yeah, I find any gold bars, I ain't sharing," Marcone said. He worked the pedal sink and splashed some water on his face. "Round Two."

More rebar-laced concrete. And then Marcone caught a glint of something … metallic? Perhaps the old man had a hidden safe, after all. He set his jackhammer aside, picked away a few chunks of concrete to reveal a corner of something. It looked more like a stone box … waitaminit, didn't they use stone liners at cemeteries? Was this something bizarre like out of _Psycho_ ? An ex-wife buried in the basement?

"Hey, Pete, can you come down here? Found something odd," Marcone radioed the site supervisor.

"What now?" Pete Connors asked a moment later. "Steel plating under the floor? Unexploded munitions?"

Marcone just pointed to the corner of glossy black stone he'd uncovered. "Hammer ain't doin' nothing to it, but I didn't want to go any further without your go-ahead."

"It's not slate. Even obsidian would break under a jackhammer," Connors mused. "And what's that, an inscription?"

"Saw it on History Channel, runes. Viking stuff."

"Great. An archaeological find in the middle of a tear-down that's already overbudget in cost and time," Connors shook his head. "Okay, not ready to send you home. Go work on the corner or something. If you find anything else, call."

"Dr. Fisk?" the student assistant asked. "Call on 2041."

"Who from?" Fisk asked, not looking up from the photographs he was studying.

"Max Bayer over at City Hall," the young woman said. "Said it was important."

"It always is," Fisk shook his head. He waved at the papers spread out before him, dashing off cryptic scribbles on Post-Its and sticking them to pages. "Would you take notes, Miss Warburton? I don't want to lose track any more than I already have."

"Sure thing," she said brightly. Callie Warburton was a graduate assistant _this_ close to her own Master's, and if hadn't been for Fisk's mentoring, she'd have been just another cocktail waitress with a major in schlepping drinks, a minor in getting groped, and zero prospects.

"Max, what can I do for you?" Fisk asked.

"Usual. Construction worker turned up something. Stone marker, possibly a sarcophagus."

"Sarcophagus? In the middle of Vegas?"

"It's the old Roget building, at the end of South Bridge and South Vegas," Bayer said. "Part of the teardown for the next big casino."

"Roget. Didn't he file suit against a couple of developers back in the 90's?"

"He did. But he kicked the bucket last year, no heirs. City Council expedited things, property turned over, and the Roget building is history."

"Except for the possible artifact in the basement," Carlton sighed. "Look, I can't get out there until tomorrow. Soon enough?"

Bayer shrugged. "It'll have to do. Lord, please not another Indian burial ground. The City Council will go apoplectic. Call me when you have something."

"Dr. Fisk? Do you want me to handle that tomorrow morning?" Callie asked after the call ended.

"That would be capital," Fisk allowed. He was already mumbling to himself, tracing fingers between the Post-It notes and trying to regain his train of thought. "Standard site survey, please, Miss Warburton."

"If you'll not be needing me, Dr. Fisk, I could head out there now, take a preliminary look?"

Fisk looked at her over his glasses. "It's getting dark."

"It's never dark in Vegas, Dr. Fisk," Callie smiled reassuringly. "I'll have the Frezzi kit with me."

"You gotta wear this," the security guard at the gate handed Callie a hard hat. She was already wearing a day glo safety vest, her camera slung around her neck. "And sign in."

A hastily-scribbled _C. Warburton_ later, Callie was examining the corner that had been uncovered. The rock was smooth and cold, with striations and mottling that looked like meteoric iron. A hint of Nordic runes, but that didn't mean it was Viking in origin. Anyone could carve runes. Maybe Old Man Roget had been a closet Odin-worshiper.

Photos. Measurements. Some simple tests to establish the material. Whatever this was, it was big.

And this was how it always started, with something small.

"Come on, Hitoshi... the night is young!" Lya calls out to her friend walking a few steps in front of her on the sidewalk as she raises her walking stick and flask to the sky and spins around before stopping and taking a sip. "You sure you don't want any?" she scoots up behind her diligent friend and puts her hand holding the flask on his shoulder before mock whispering "This is a special batch of tsipouro you know...made by the monks of Mount Athos! I figured I'd ask before we got to the party... I don't exactly have enough for everybody!" She chuckles to herself. "I suppose I could ask him... but nah...better save the family favors for the serious stuff."

Hitoshi shakes his head. "No thank you Lya, I might have something later." That usually meant he wasn't planning on drinking tonight, or if he did drink, it would be alone. He rarely drank in public. "You go ahead and have all the fun you want. I'll be around if you need me." A drop of wetness hits his forehead and he looks up with a frown. "I think it's about to rain." sure enough, seconds later the sky opens up and a light rain begins to fall. "Well Shit."

"Talk about putting a damper on things," Lya mutters as she pulls her long coat tighter around her. "Good thing it's not an outdoor venue, eh?" She pushes her wet locks out of her face and looks up to the darkening clouds as a chill runs down her spine. "You know we could always be fashionably late and see if this storm blows over...how about we catch some grub, Hitoshi?" she hurries up to his side and gestures at the welcoming glow of a diner's "Open" sign down the street. "They've got some great pie there... I remember eating there once with the girls after this amazing after-party when we played the HAZE...or maybe I'm just hazy, huh? Get it?" she laughs as she grabs his arm and walks quicker towards the diner.

Hitoshi nods solemnly. "yes, I know. In fact I distinctly remember the last time you dragged me here... drunk... off your rear. I also remembering you eating a whole apple pie that same night and then puking on my shoes while I held your hair back. Such a waste of pie." He shakes his head trying to hide his grin while he gives his friend a good ribbing.

"Well at least I know I remembered right," she chuckles as they enter the diner. Lya waves her hand in greeting to the waitress behind the counter who nods at them as they take a seat in a booth by the window. "Though this time I think I'll go for cherry, and you'll have to have some with me. Wouldn't want me eating a whole one by myself again, would you?" she winks. "Two slices of cherry pie, a cup of coffee and a hot tea for my friend here, Marie," Lya says with a friendly smile to the waitress as she catches her eye. "Oh and a paper if you guys have one?"

"Looking for reviews of your latest performance?" Hitoshi asks curiously as he subtly scans the other inhabitants of the diner.

"Nah...it's just...I've got an odd feeling, is all... and no, it's not the tsipouro before you say anything," she laughs weakly as she gazes out the window at the rain.

Inside the diner, Evie Cartwright sits in one of the back booths, pouring over pages of scribbled notes. One hand flips through the papers, shifting each around as she eyes data there, trying to make a connection in this seemingly random case. The other hand holds a delectably sweet doughnut, all soft and warm with bits of blueberry suspended in the middle.

Cops and donuts? Yeah, it may be cliché. But, screw that. Donuts are _delicious._

She sighs and sets the food down, leaning back in her seat. Both hands lift to her face, rubbing her eyes before moving on to run through her short, brown pixie cut, ruffling her already messy locks into an even more impressive array of cowlicks. _None of this makes sense,_ she thinks. _But, I know there is a connection here. I can __**feel **__it. I just need to prove it..._

The front door chimes happily as another customer walks in and Evie looks up to see the couple stride in out of the rain. Her brows furrow and it takes her a minute, but she places Lya's face after a few moments. It's the singer that her brother is rather fond of. He had insisted on taking her out to a concert not too long ago, convinced that she needed to relax a bit. Evie smiles at the memory, but is then distracted as the theme from _Pirates of the Caribbean_ begins to emanate from her pants. She quickly answers her phone, saying softly, "Cartwright. Whatcha got?"

The waitress sets down to slices of warm pie on the table between them and pours their drinks before handing Lya a copy of the morning's paper. "Let me know if you need anything else, hon... doesn't look like it's going to be too busy tonight with the rain and all." She winks and walks back behind the counter where she starts filling napkin dispensers.

Lya moans around a mouthful of pie as she leans back in her seat. "The tourists don't know what they're missing, Maggie!" she says loudly before setting down her fork and taking a sip of her coffee. She misses the saucer when she sets it down and splashes a little onto the newspaper.

"Aw crap..." she grabs a napkin and starts blotting it before she notices the small article underneath the stain about the building of a new casino where the Roget building used to stand.

"Now see, this is what I'm talking about Hitoshi..." she says to her friend as she points at the article and pushes it across the table towards him. "It's like we're constantly sacrificing our history...our...sense of self... for the next big thing."

Hitoshi sips his tea and sets it down on the table. "Didn't you run away from your history in order to make a fresh start?"

"What little of it I knew, anyway... which I think was part of the problem, honestly." She picks up her fork and starts playing with another bite of pie on her plate. "If I'd known where I came from from the start, maybe things would've been different."

"Ahh... but then we may never have met, Lya-san. And do you not know your history now? Enjoy your pie, my friend... things have a way of working themselves out." Hitoshi smiles knowingly and returns to his tea.

"Yeah... I guess you're right... no sense letting the pie get cold."

Hitoshi takes a bite of his pie. "Okay, this IS really good Pie. Remind me to buy a whole one to take home to mom." He snags the paper and looks at the article she is pointing at. "hmm... the city is like the layers of this pie. Each section built on that below it, but all is part of a greater whole."

"I think it's more like we keep making the pie and forget to clean the pan," Lya jokes as she scrapes up the last piece of pie from the plate. "Not yours, Maggie..." she calls out as the waitress raises a disapproving eyebrow. "Yours is delicious and would go fantastic with a nice 2007 North Slope Pinot Gris. I'm talking about more the..." she waves her fork about, " _universal_ pie."

Would counsel like to poll the jurors?" asked the judge.

"Very well. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this completes your service …"

"Mr. North, I … I owe you, man," said Glenn Vernon. "Thanks. I know that don't cover it at all, but thanks."

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Vernon," Alex North told his client. "That's my job."

"Come join my family at church on Sunday. North Vegas Baptist," Vernon said.

"My relationship with God is … complicated," Alex smiled.

"God can be like that," Vernon said sagely. "He's a strict father that you may not understand. You may not feel close to Him, but He still cares about you."

Alex thought back to the handful of times he'd spoken with his father. His _real_ father: Tyr, the Norse God of War. Their relationship was formal and absent familiarity, a superior officer to a subordinate. An occasional bit of praise, but often on the tails of a personal challenge or demanding trial. His chopper getting shot down in Afghanistan. A highly-charged rape case at Torii Army Base. An officer-involved shooting in New York.

"I'm not sure I could handle a closer relationship," he smiled.

"He'll be there for you, just as He made sure you were there for me. Thank you, again."

Alex checked his phone as he left the courtroom. There was the usual assortment of missed calls and messages, clients looking for his services. The fact that he was an independent with a growing reputation for championing those who were caught in the cogs of the wheels of justice attracted all sorts, from repeat offenders looking to avoid a third 'strike' to progressive political groups.

"Nice work, Alex," said a colleague from the District Attorney's office. "If I ever wind up in a pinch, I want you on my side."

"A lineup is usually pretty solid," Alex admitted. "But I had a gut feeling my client didn't do it."

Alex knew his 'gut feeling' was a legacy from his divine parent, but it was his skill at investigation that made it worth anything in the modern era. Men didn't take each other at their word any more.

"The Boss threw your name onto the table the other day as a possible ADA. You've got the chops. Experience, high-profile cases."

"Not sure the boys in blue would be as enthusiastic," Alex said.

"Because you stuck NYPD for a wrongful death claim? It'd actually look good. Show the D.A. takes things seriously."

"Just in time for election season?"

His friend laughed. "Why? You thinking of running for Public Defender?"

"Politics gives me hanging chads. Hives. A rash."

"I'm just letting you know Clemens will be asking."

Alex still had paperwork to take care of, which meant dinner in town. Choice wasn't the issue – there was everything from middle-American franchises to casino steakhouses and novelty restaurants. He wasn't really in the mood for pirate wenches or singing waiters, and one could only have so much Kung Pao. That left a couple of hole-in-the-wall treasures, an honest-to-goodness Philly cheesesteak, or the Soul Food Café, a small diner that lived up to its name.

Maybe he could make it there before the clouds on the horizon turned into something nasty.

"… the knurled edge does suggest that it is a some form of coffer or container rather than a tablet," Carrie dictated, using her smartphone as recorder. The advantage was that her notes would immediately become available in the cloud, with no risk of losing a cassette or other media. She hadn't really learned much in her prior visit, returning to the site with additional tools. She asked a worker to break up the concrete around the perimeter, and another to stand by with an acetylene torch to cut away the rebar. They could then lift the block away to reveal the surface of the object. Hopefully, the object itself was surrounded by packed earth and not more reinforced construction.

"Okay, Miss," said the torcher. "I'm about to start. You should wait upstairs."

Carrie did as the torcher suggested. She took the time to review notes she'd made about Armand Roget, the building's owner through its entire history. An eccentric sort who kept to himself, the only news stories about Roget were a one-time run on the tables at the old Sands, and the more recent articles detailing a vociferous battle with the city council back in the 1990's.

The voice of Jeanine, Evie's contact down at the lab, filters through the phone, "Hey. Got those results back for you. You're looking at the same caliber weapon, but with a completely different rifling pattern."

"Aw, shit...that means we're missing a weapon," Evie balances her phone between her ear and shoulder while she sorts through her papers. She quickly finds the page that she's looking for and places it on top of the stack. Pulling a pen from her pocket, she says, "Gimme the particulars."

Jeanine rattles off a bunch of specific information about the bullets that had been collected. All the while, Evie scribbles it down, sometimes turning a page to the side so that she can write along a space that is not already filled with her chicken-scratch. Unconsciously, she chews on her bottom lip as she writes, worrying the flesh between her teeth.

Soon, Jeanine stops, ending the conversation with, "Good luck, Evie. I'll call you if anything else turns up. Oh...and tell Saul that he owes me. Big time."

Evie's eyebrow shoots up and a bemused smirk breaks across her face, despite running into yet another obstacle in her investigation. " 'Kay," she chuckles. "Do I need to beat him about the head and shoulders? Because, I can do that!"

Jeanine's laughter tinkles through the phone, "No, no! Weellll...mayb...nah!"

Laughing softly, she says, "Thanks. Take care!"

She hangs up the call and looks back to her notes.

"Elder Futhark, certainly. But not from the period," Fisk ran his hand over the sarcophagus lid. "Are there any additional inscriptions on the sides, Miss Warburton?"

"No, Dr. Fisk," Callie said. "But there's a surprising absence of tool marks. Something like this would have to be carved, wouldn't it?"

"That we cannot discern the methodology does not mean 'space aliens,' as that one fellow likes to spout," Fisk said sternly. "It simply means that we don't know, and will continue to explore the possibilities. For example, it could be poured. The mottling occurs as the compound cools unevenly, and an acid bath could explain the striations."

"We'd need a metallurgic analysis to be certain, then," Callie said. "A poured compound would be different from meteoric iron."

"Have the sarcophagus removed and taken to the university," Fisk told the site supervisor.

"Miss Warburton will do a short survey of the excavation, and you should be able to resume work in short order."

Fisk ran a series of tests on the outside corner of the sarcophagus. A sample of the metal was easily obtained from within the runes. He examined the flakes under a microscope.

"Interesting," he said. "It's meteoric iron, after all. But we still don't know whether this was carved from a single meteorite, or from several. We'll query databases and newspaper archives. The building is from the 1940's, and a meteor of that size would not have gone unnoticed."

"We're recording, Dr. Fisk, if you want to proceed?" asked another student.

"Of course," Fisk answered. He ran a fiber optic scope around the underside of the lid, checking for hidden catches or indications that the lid was booby-trapped, found nothing. "There appear to be no hidden catches, only a wax seal, which will be quite brittle. Prybar, please."

Fisk drew a surgical mask over his mouth and nose, then donned a Plexiglas face shield. He accepted the prybar from Callie and wedged it under the lid. At first, the lid refused to budge. Then there were several loud cracks as the seal gave way.

"It looks to be solid metal, so let's be careful. We'll be carrying it to the left and setting it down on the table there," Fisk directed. "On three …"

They lifted the lid clear. Fisk was the first to look inside.

"Oh, my god," Fisk paled.

The cameras showed them what had left Fisk unsettled.

It was a human skeleton.

And while its clothes were faded with age, the cut of the blue serge fabric was unmistakable. Not to mention the shield pinned to its left breast pocket. There was a clear indentation on the right side of the dead man's skull, and the right hand was missing.

"Miss Warburton, please call the police."

Alex made it most of the way to the diner. About a block-and-a-half away, the impending storm broke, a full-on Vegas gully washer, with rain sloshing over his shoe tops and putting the waterproofing of his trench coat to the test. He made it inside and stood there, dripping, rather than shaking himself off like a dog.

"Just hang your coat and hat up, and find a seat, Alex," the waitress called out. "I'll bring you a towel."

"Appreciate it, Maggie," Alex smiled. The place was quiet – it wasn't the dinner hour, and it wasn't shift change at any of the precincts or hospitals. Just a few locals, like himself. He recognized Detective Cartwright, but only by reputation. A younger couple with a bit of a party-ready look to them. Maggie arrived with a menu and a towel, and it felt like a gallon of water sluiced out of his hair.

"Usual daily special," Maggie said. "Chef has smothered pork chops, as well. And the cr—"

"—awfish etouffee over cheese grits. Just what the doctor ordered."

"To drink?"

"Just a Coke."

"Food'll be up in a jiff."

Evie glances at her text messages. There is nothing of pressing importance, only a message from her mom asking if she is going to come over for Sunday dinner. She makes a mental note to call home later that evening before slipping the phone back into her pocket.

Once again, the door chimes merrily, admitting yet another customer. The detective looks up, unable to help herself. It's sheer force of habit (and nature) that makes her take note of everyone that enters.

This time, she sees a familiar face. Well, sort of familiar. Much as Mr. North knows Evie through reputation, so too does she know him. His name is well known within the law community. She's seen him around the courthouse on several occasions, though she's never spoken to the man.

This does not stop her from giving him a friendly nod and smile as their eyes meet, a silent greeting between two civil servants.

The bell on the door jingles and Lya leans back in her booth to take in the waterlogged man who entered the diner. "Man...I'm even happier we skipped that party now, Hitoshi, the stage would've been drenched!" Her friends fork stops half way to his mouth in shock as she realized what she just said.

"Yeah, I said it," she chuckles as she kicks him playfully, "you can stop staring at me like that. Even I've got to take a break _sometime._ "

Lightning streaks through the sky followed by a booming rattle as squealing late-night partiers run past the diner window with coats and newspapers covering their heads. "Besides..." she sighs as she looks out the window. "I can't shake the feeling that we've got a bigger event to attend and I've somehow lost the invitation, ya know?"

Evie heard her phone ring, but ignored it as she was still juggling pieces of the case in her head. Most folks would hang up before five or six rings, figuring the call would go to voicemail. This time, the phone kept ringing. She glanced at the display, saw that it was HQ. Just after dark, inasmuch as Vegas actually got dark. Never a good omen.

"Cartwright."

"Hey, Evie. I know you're still working on the Davison case, but I have to drop another one on you," said her boss. "Cold case. Construction crew uncovered a coffin, sarcophagus, whatever you call it."

"Where at?"

"Roget Building. What's left of it, anyway. Stuff was buried under the foundation."

"So no real crime scene," Cartwright frowned. "Where am I going?"

"Lab at the University. And Evie? The victim looks to have been one of our own. Badge 5849, Officer Thomas Cardinelli, went missing during a nasty round of flash floods. His patrol car was found in a culvert, he wasn't. Figured he'd just been drowned, body swept away. We were wrong, obviously."

The door to the diner slammed open, and another rain-soaked patron came in. Maggie greeted him with a cheerful smile. He looked to be in his twenties. Stringy - and wet - black hair fell to just below his shoulders. He wore a motorcycle jacket, but had no helmet. A greasy t-shirt over black jeans and work boots. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes suggested getting caught in the rain was the least of his problems. There was a brooding quality to the way he half-slouched at the counter. He glanced towards Cartwright, looked away a bit too quickly, only to see Hitoshi leaning back against the intersection of wall and bench, his long legs stretched out.

"Merde," the newcomer mutters under his breath.

"Huh. Okay, I'll head on over to the university, assuming that anyone is still there. If not, I'll drop by in the morning. I'll let you know as soon as I find something," Evie's brows furrow and a small frown tugs at the corners of her mouth. "Thanks, chief."

As she ended the call, the door chimed again, admitting a rather sketchy looking fellow. There was certainly nothing at all wrong with _looking_ sketchy. Heck, there had been more than a few occasions where she had probably appeared less than trustworthy after long nights of work and frustration...and no shower...and less sleep...

She turned her attention back to her phone, turning it sideways to make it easier to read and type. She pulled up a search engine and quickly began looking for mention of Thomas Cardinelli, the floods and the search for him.

Lya's eyes narrow as she takes in the newcomer to the diner as she's seen her share of thugs before. From the conversations she'd been hearing in the booth behind her she figured the lady must be a cop... and if Hitoshi and her make this guy nervous, then something is definitely up.

She takes a sip of her coffee with one hand as she reaches below the table to grab her cane and nudge Hitoshi in the hip. When he looks her way she shifts her eyes towards the newcomer at the counter. _Here goes nothing..._

"Aw man, out of coffee!" she moans as she picks up the mug and gets up from their booth to take a seat two stools away at the counter. "Hey Mags, how about some of the _good_ coffee this time? I know you've got some free trade rainforest coffee _in the back_ and you've been holding out on me. How about being a sweetheart and finding it for me, eh? After the night I've had I need the extra boost." _Come on Maggie...take the hint and make yourself scarce in case the shit hits the fan!_

With one hand grasping the coffee cup she reaches into her pocket with her other and pulls out her flask. "Probably has something to do with the rum," she chuckles before smiling at the man at the counter and gesturing with the flask towards him. "Want to try a taste? It's so smooth you don't even notice you're drunk till you stand up!" _Let's see if I can get a closer look at this guy and see what his deal is..._

"Yeah, thanks, I'll pass," the newcomer mutters. "Not much for rum."

There's a mischievous gleam in Lya's eyes as she mimics a pouring motion once more. "Are you sure?" she says, leaning a bit closer.

The newcomer shakes his head. The phone chimes to announce an incoming message. He grabs the phone and holds it out of sight under the counter's edge. The movement is enough for Lya to catch a glimpse of a tattoo, the ragged edge of a wolf's head over scroll work and the crossed hilts of two rapiers. The kid was part of the _Manada de Lobos_ , the Wolf Pack. Not the thugs who'd tried to rape her that one night, but with an equally unpleasant reputation.

Evie's ears perk at this turn of events from the singer. Her eyes lift from her phone and she watches quietly. In all honesty, she is all for giving people the benefit of the doubt. She's met burly, hairy bikers who were nothing more than giant kitties on the inside, and sleek, handsome GQ types who would just as soon stab you as speak to you. But...she had to admit that there was something about the man...something she couldn't put her finger on...

It was the reason, despite her telling the chief that she was leaving, that her butt was still firmly planted in the booth. And, it was going to stay that way until things shook out here.

Hitoshi glances out of the corner of his eye at the man and mentally sizes him up. _"Hmm, he might be trouble."_ He thinks to himself. Quietly he sips his tea, but now is on alert. While Lya was one to be loud, Hitoshi always grew quiet during situations like this. Slowly he shifts position in the booth so he's closer to the edge of the end, all the while continuing to drink his tea as if nothing is wrong. His free hand rests nonchalantly on the hilt of his sword, the familiar feel of the wooden walking stick sword as much of a comfort as the tea he was drinking.

The newcomer fumbles with a smartphone, one in the bright fruity colors of a WalMart discount item. He texts someone, then lays the phone on the counter. Another edgewise glance at Hitoshi.

"The good stuff, eh?" Maggie repeats cheerfully. "I put on a pot when you and Hitoshi walked in, should be ready by now. Let me go check." She disappears into the back.

Evie keyed in the search terms, got newspaper articles that told the same story the Chief had given her. Cardinelli was a patrol officer with a solid reputation. He was from a law enforcement family, parents deceased, a brother and sister still in Vegas. There had been nothing suspicious about Cardinelli's disappearance at the time, but having his bones turn up under the foundation of a building made it murder.

Her search is disturbed by the roar of a custom-tuned engine. More than one. A half-dozen young men swagger into the diner. Two head to one side, down towards where Alex North is sitting. The others saunter past the other couple and mill about a corner booth. One of them stops by the nervous-looking newcomer, who suddenly looks more confident. Strength in numbers, no doubt.

"Hey, _hermano pequeno_ ," he says, gesturing for the newcomer to join the larger group. They head towards the others in back. A nod in the direction of the Japanese man, and a smirk. A dare, then.

_That-a-girl Maggie..._ "Hey your loss, muchacho," Lya replies with a forced grin as the rest of his gang saunters through the door. She spins in her stool and hops off, exchanging her coffee cup for her cane as she walks by Hitoshi with a grim glance before swaying towards the cops table and forcing another smile. "How about you lady? It goes great with coffee!" She bends over her coffee cup and pours a little rum into her cup as she whispers the name of the gang to her.

Hitoshi watches the rest of the gang walk in and sighs to himself. He's not sure which gang it is, but to him they are all the same, nothing but trouble. Which is what looked like was about to happen.

As soon as the rest of the gang show up, Evie goes on high alert. Inwardly, she sighs at the young man's choice. Had he simply sat there, had a piece of pie and done nothing, everyone would've gone about their day without giving him so much as a second thought. Now, though? Yeah. There's no way that she's leaving the restaurant until these jokers clear out. She may not know exactly which gang she is looking at, but she can tell trouble when she sees it.

At this point, Lya wanders over and tips her flask over Evie's cup. The detective gives a small gasp of surprise and moves her hand over her cup to try and protect if from the alcohol which she assumes Lya wasn't lying about, sending a few drops of golden of rum streaming across the back of her hand.

Evie starts to give Lya a polite refusal, "I'm sorry, ma'am but, I really shouldn't have anything like that..."

Lya whispers the gang's name.

"...I'm still on duty," she finishes softly as she looks up at the singer, meets her eyes, and gives a small, almost imperceptible nod of thanks.

_Manada de Lobos._ She knows them. Granted, she's not as familiar as the beat cops since she spends most of her time chasing cold cases but you'd have to be deaf and blind to not know about them and still work in law enforcement. Once again, Evie pulls turns her attention to her phone. Not wishing to draw too much attention to herself, she keeps it low to the table as she pulls up her texts. She finds Saul's number and quickly types:

_Group of Manada de Lobos at Soul Food. No trouble yet, but would like backup nearby. Do not enter. Do not wish to incite. All calm so far._

She sets the phone down as she smiles and says, "I know you. My little brother is fond of your band. You're part of _The Furies,_ aren't you?"

"In the flesh," Lya replies as she spins around, swirling out her coat and finishing with a cross-legged bow with flask and cane raised. She takes a swig from her flask before putting it in an inside pocket and pulling out a Sharpie with a grin. "How about an autograph for your brother?" she asks as she grabs a napkin and writes "We've got your back, xxoo Lya Bach." She pushes it over to the cop with a wink.

"The rest of the band went to a CD party, but we got caught in the rain and decided to have our own party instead. I think it needs some music, though... don't you?" She saunters over to the jukebox and grabs some quarters out of her pocket. "Ahhh... perfect..."

Evie can't help but smile at the woman. Her style is so flamboyant and upbeat that it's hard not to instantly like her. She reaches out and takes the signed napkin, carefully folding it, "Thank you! Ian will be tickled. You have just officially made me 'The Cool Sister.'"

She chuckles and reaches into her pocket, this time pulling out one of those hard wallet cases. She snaps it open and gently tucks the napkin inside where it will be protected from the rain, "I'm Evie, by the way. It's nice to meet you." As Lya saunters over to the jukebox, Evie lets her eyes drift over the gang members, taking silent note of their general mood.

Alex shakes his head as the gang members roll in the door and separate, loosely covering opposite ends of the diner. There seems to be some byplay between the gang and the young couple, perhaps members of a rival gang, or perhaps someone they're trying to shake down. The message is clear enough - mind your own business. But Alex felt a familiar energy pulsing through his veins, the thrill he'd felt when he'd first laid hands upon the sword _Worldbreaker_ , the gift from his divine father. The threads of War were here, to be woven into a greater tapestry … or not.

"Hola, Ryder-san," the group leader says, his tone anything but respectful. "Just you and the lady? Where are the rest of your bitches?"

The words ring out in the suddenly still atmosphere of the diner. And then a pounding bass line comes across the speakers, edgy and harsh …

Hitoshi drains his tea in one gulp and sets the cup back on the table. Standing he straightens his tie, picks up his Sword, and looks the ganger that had spoken right in the eye. "Leave Now" His voice echos slightly as he puts the full force of the power that flows within him behind his words.

"Leave now," Hitoshi says quietly. And yet, there's a force to the words that brooks no dissent.

The group leader swallows whatever wisecrack he'd had on deck and heads towards the door. His eyes widen slightly as he finds himself unable to stop, and he continues out into the rain.

The laughter from the rest of the gang members dies off. Two of them head out the door to check on their companion.

"Jefe?" one asks.  
Their leader is shaking his head angrily, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"Son of a bitch insulted my mother," he explains. He knows that isn't true, but he can't explain why he had to follow Ryder's instructions. Or why he feels oddly reluctant to re-enter the diner.

"Make him pay for it, Jefe," says one. "Maybe we pay one of his girlfriends a visit later, eh?"

Their leader nods, anger bolstering his will. "Okay, okay. I came out to get something from the car. Let him think he won."

His cruiser parked at the corner on the opposite side of the street, Saul watches the trio fetch something from their heavily-modded truck. A weapon, perhaps? That'd be a rookie mistake that could get the lot of them tossed in the joint. He texts Evie a heads-up.

The trio re-enters the diner, ignoring Hitoshi except for the very blatant act of mimicking a gun with thumb and forefinger. The three laugh as they join their friends.  
One of them pumps some quarters into the jukebox, picking several old Santana tunes …

Lya drops her head and does her best to hide a grimace as she witnesses the exchange from her spot leaning against the wall by the jukebox. _Humiliation just makes them angry...gangs like this only respect a force stronger than themselves._ She grasps her cane tight and runs her thumb over the words hidden in the vine work carvings as she mutters under her breath "Theo̱ró̱ po̱s i̱ dýnamí̱ mou gia na mou." (I summon my strength to me)

"Ah Santana... that's some great dance music, you know," Lya says with a grin as one of the gang looks up with a sneer from the jukebox. She feigns looking around the diner and pouts, "But there aren't enough dance partners, are there? Lets see if I can fix that..." She grins slyly as she raps her cane against the door of the women's restroom.

"Where my _bitches_ at?" Lya's words ring out across the room.

"Say my name, say my name!" Klepto laughs as she comes out of the swinging doors to the kitchen.

Phoebe and Orithia emerge from the ladies' room, sharing a conspiratorial smile. Toxic is last to enter, coming in from outside. "Finding a parking space is a _bitch_. I'm just … Toxic."

And while all of the Furies could be said to be dressed to kill, there was a certain practicality to their wardrobe. Heeled boots, but not vanity spikes. Tight leather jackets, pants, and bustiers or artistically-torn t-shirts that didn't seem to bind or constrict.

There's a clear shift in mood as the numbers balance out. The Furies aren't clustered, but form a loose gauntlet about Lya and Hitoshi. The Wolf Pack has the choice of cowering in the corner or walking past Lya and the Furies to reach the door.

Lya smiled. There must be a special place in Tartarus for little boys who think they're men.

Alex hadn't taken particular notice of things until now. There was plenty of parking outside, and none of the other tables had had so much as a glass of water. And there was that a-storm-is-coming feeling in the air. The problem was that punks like the Wolf Pack never knew when to back down. And now, they were cornered. The two on his side of the diner began to saunter back towards the press.

"You boys should have a seat," Alex said. "Order something. On me."

"Mind your own business."

Alex got up from the table. "I am. I like eating here, and I'd hate to see the place busted up."

"Fuck off," says one, making to shoulder Alex aside.

"I asked nicely," Alex's hand lands on the gang member's shoulder. The gang member tries to pull away, and his eyes widen in fear as he realizes he can't.

"_Your_ bitches, Chica?" the leader smirks. "What's that make him?"

The remark only draws an icy look from Hitoshi.

"Hmph," the leader continues. He leers at Orithia. "You want to party? We can party."

Hitoshi looks over at Lya and shakes his head. "These _Aho no_ (Dumbasses) never learn." He turns to face the gang. "Sorry boys, I was trying to be nice and keep you guys out of trouble, but you guys just had to be stupid just to prove a point. There's a terminology i keep hearing... now what is it? Oh yea. _Sucks to be you_." He moves to stand in front of Lya knowing she's not much of a fighter.

"Ladies, play nice. I like this place and so does Lya and we'd like to be welcomed back." Though his attitude is serious, Hitoshi can't help but have a slight grin, and a scary gleam in his eye.

"Play nice?" scoffs Toxic. "He needs to take out the earplugs and actually listen to our music sometime."

"Oh I love parties," replies Orithia with a sweet smile at the gang member as she cracks her knuckles. "Especially the ones where I get to beat up animals and see what's inside."

"It makes him smart enough to know who he should be friends with... and who he shouldn't piss off," Lya replies to the gang leader with a grim grin. She nods to the girls in greeting. "Now do we all want to sit down and share a drink like normal people do because seriously I've got some killer rum I've been trying to share, or do we need to continue this dance outside?"

Hitoshi chuckles. "Now Toxic, you know I only listen to Country." It was a joke between him and the band. They all knew how much he hated country music. "Listen gentlemen, Lya's being extremely nice right now. She's not kidding about the just sitting down and having a drink part."

Evie hears her phone beep but, quite frankly, she's not too keen on pulling her attention from the fight that looks like may well break out. However, she flips it open, reads the text and quickly replies, "Thnx shit going down. Standoff. No weapons so far."

She pockets the phone once more and stands, adding her presence to mix. She shakes her head, sighs and adds, "Look, guys. Things are about to go all pear-shaped in a serious sort of way and, depending on what you got out of your truck earlier...that could mean hard time for you."

Her voice is soft. She never raises the volume, but there is a hard edge, a clear warning, "Had you just sat there and enjoyed a nice piece of pie, things would not be going badly. But, you made a stupid call and here we are..."

She shakes her head, "There's a cruiser just around the corner. You really want to go down this road?"

"Lemmego! I ain't done nothin!" the gang member hollers at Alex.

"Like the nice detective said: do you and your friends really want to go down this road?" Alex asked.

The gang member tries to pull away again, but the vise-like grip on his shoulder is unrelenting.

"I said let me go, _puta cabron_ !"

"Gods, you really are that stupid," Alex mutters. He looks at the second kid, who is standing with one foot braced and his hand in his jacket pocket. "Oh, come on. In front of a police detective and with a cruiser outside?"

The gang leader holds up his hands. "Keep your damned rum. We'll have this dance some other time. _Vayamos, muchachos._"

The group makes their way towards the door, the two over by Alex and Evie meeting them. The leader makes a kiss-kiss gesture towards Orithia, and another slaps Toxic's ass as he passes.

"I love redheads," he leers.

"Titian, asshole. My hair is Titian," Toxic rolls her eyes.

As the gang files out, Evie breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she had wanted was a confrontation. She didn't want Maggie or any other of the staff injured. Fortunately, the Soul Food had been fairly empty, this evening except for this group...

Evie chuckles and says quietly, "Thank god. The last thing I needed, tonight, was _more_ paperwork..."

Her eyes then fall to _The Furies_ and a frown creases her brow. Where had they come from? They had not been here, earlier, and did not arrive after Lya and her friend. Evie would've definitely noticed that. In fact, Lya had quite clearly said that the rest of the band was at a CD party but the two of them had gotten caught by the rain and decided to stop here...something ain't kosher, here. She looks out the window and watches as the gang pulls out and drives down the road. Once they are gone, she steps just outside of the door and waves to Saul, giving him the thumbs up. She flashes him three fingers, forming a "W," the signal between them that she owes him a beer next time they go to Worsely's bar for pool.

"Well thank the Gods that's over," Lya chuckles as she walks over to the counter and hops on a stool with a spin. "Now we can get back to what's really important..." she whips out the flask and grabs some coffee cups from behind the counter as the Furies call out in unison "Wine, Women and Song!"

"Exactly!" Lya replies as she pours a little of her rum into each cup. "Klepto, was Maggie ok when you came in through the kitchen? I'm sure she could use a drink after all of this." she looks over to the booths. "Officer Evie? Care to join us in a toast? And what about you kind sir in the sharp suit?"

Orithia sits on a stool at the counter and pouts as Toxic consoles her. "It's ok hon... we'll get you a pinata next time."

Phoebe leans against the jukebox with quarters in hand. "Enough with the never-ending guitar solos... "

Hitoshi goes to the window and watches the gangers as they leave. Frowning he walks over to Lya, snags a cup of rum and throws it back before stepping outside to light up a rare smoke. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. It was in the air, the gangers were just the start. However, it wasn't something he'd tell Lya. No need to worry her. Quickly finishing his smoke he looks up at the sky for a second before going back inside and up to the counter. "Maggie, How bout some pie all around, it's on me."

Evie politely holds the door for Hitoshi as he steps out and she steps back in, the two of them passing briefly.

She smiles and shakes her head at Lya's offer, "Thanks, but no. I really am still on duty. In fact, I was supposed to be headed to the university when the Lobos dropped in, but I felt like staying was the wiser course. Now that that's over, though..." She chuckles, "Back to work!"

"A slice of apple, then, please," Alex says. "I'll pass on the rum. Even if it would make the paperwork I still have a bit more amusing."  
A brief pause. "So, who are you that gang members quail when they see you enjoying a cup of coffee and some pie?"

"We are but humble minstrels kind sir," Lya chuckled as she handed out the coffee cups to the four women who gathered around her for a toast.

"And we're very protective of our Lya," says Toxic as she gently hip checks her with a laugh and grabs a cup.

"Gods knows she needs it," adds Klepto as she takes hers.

"Oh you bitches you love it," Lya laughs. "Hitoshi is the one who is going to have a heart attack one of these days, since he's been looking out for me since we were kids. I've already driven him to drink before us!"

"Live life to the last drop!" They all call out before downing their drinks and setting them on the counter.

Alex recalled the last time he'd seen a woman of this caliber, and it had been the valkyrie who came to claim the crew of the downed helicopter. Lya and her friends had the same direct, brook-no-nonsense manner, veiled under the glamorous mien. He wondered if the _Manada de Lobos_ even had an inkling of the kind of trouble they'd nearly bought into. Or were still planning to, if the leader's parting words about having this 'dance' at another time.

"Alex North. I have a private practice ... law. Usually defending the guy who can't swing fancy lawyers in suits."

Hitoshi frowns. Maggie hadn't come out of the kitchen. "umm yea, what Lya said. They are the minstrels, I'm just the chaperon." He looks through the serving window trying to see Maggie. "Hey Lya, somethings up. I'm gonna go check on Maggie." With that said he moves around the counter. "Hey mags, you need a hand or two back here?"

Hitoshi knew Rick the owner well enough because he was the brother of Mike who owned the Auto shop Hitoshi worked at from time to time. In fact, it was Rick who gave Hitoshi his old Honda motorcycle. A cycle that Hitoshi still kept running to this day.

"Rick? Anyone else back here?"

"Hitoshi?" asks Rick. He has the staff - Maggie, another waitress, a second chef, and two busboys - in the back of the stockroom, out of harm's way. He's standing at the door with a baseball bat. "Do I still have a restaurant? And was that a case of oh-shit-that-Ryder-guy-is-here, or are those punks sick of eating at Mickey-D's?"

A protection racket wouldn't be entirely out of the question, although such things were now fronted by pleasant people in tailored suits. Nuisances like the_Manada de Lobos_ didn't work the collection side. They started fights, tagged your building, torched your dumpsters, that sort of thing.

Hitoshi chuckles. "Yes Rick, you still have a restaurant, and its safe to come out." He smiles and shrugs. "As for why those guys were here, I don't really know. I know they didn't seem happy to see me, and they were ready to start something. I certainly didn't recognize any of them though. Have they come in here before and tried to start trouble?" He starts picking up the kitchen that was left when Rick and the others made their dash for the back stockroom. "Lya, everyone's okay back here!" He shouts out while he works.

"I think I've seen all of them at one time or another. 'We're always open, and you're always welcome,'" Rick says, mimicking a television commercial from several years back and best forgotten. Word of mouth was the Soul Food Diner's true strength. "Admittedly, we have an eclectic customer base. Cops, musicians, Japanese businessmen, and now gang members.

"I gotta say, it scared the hell out of me when Klepto marched in through the back door," Rick shakes his head. "Thing's supposed to be locked. At least from the outside."

Hitoshi realizes Rick is _assuming_ Klepto came in through the back door, instead of 'beaming in' as the girls usually do. He's thankful it was one of their less-showy entrances.

Lya waves goodnight to Officer Evie and smiles in relief at the good news. "One more round then for our culinary compatriots," she calls out to the back as she pours a new set of drinks.

"This might've just been an unfortunate case of the rain making strange bedfellows," she says to Alex, "but I can't help but feel there's more to it. He won't tell me," she nods towards Hitoshi in the back and continues in a conspiratorial whisper, "but I know he feels it too. It's like..."

"... a storm is coming," Alex nods. "The rain is just the beginning."

He fidgets with the ring on his left forefinger. It's a simple spiral design, made to look like a rope or cord. There's a distant look in his eyes for a moment, and wherever his mind is, it's not here in the diner.

"You know, I think I'll take you up on that rum, after all," he says.

"Yeah... thought you might," she muttered to herself as she poured another drink and passed it down the counter.

"Thank you, Lya." Alex takes the drink and raises it in salute. "Ave victores mortuis," he says quietly, then tosses the drink back.

Hitoshi steps back out front and grins. "Well it looks like everyone is okay then." Suddenly his cellphone rings. Picking it up and looking at who's calling, he groans and looks up at the ceiling. For a moment he contemplates not answering it, but after 3 more rings he answers.

"Yes mom?" ... "What? Why am I late? No Mom, you didn't tell me that you planned for us to have dinner tonight, I told you that tonight was the CD party for Lya and the band and that I was going to be there. Yes, yes I did. I even marked it on your calendar on your desk just so you'd know. Nooo, your plans do not trump mine or Lya's... No, I don't really care that you found a nice cute waitress at the Casino and invited her to dinner. No, I don't care about that either, I'll get married when I'm damn good and ready."

He looks over at Lya and rolls his eyes while mouthing "More Rum Please." Silently. He waggles the cup he grabbed before in emphasis.

"No mom, I am NOT going to give you my address. Lya and I moved out because of you being exactly like this. Both of us live on our own now, and we like it the way it is. No, I don't care that you could get me a better job, I LIKE guarding the band, and working at the auto... Yes, yes I am ungrateful, and a horrible son. No mom, you haven't been providing for me since I moved out, I tore all those checks up that arrived in the mail, the money is still in your account. What money I have, I made myself without your help... Okay mom, love you, gotta go, NOT going to listen to this anymore."

He ends the call and tosses the phone on the counter sighing as he does so. The phone starts ringing again seconds later. Angrily he turns it completely off. "Well that's going to be fifty or so messages in the next hour or so. Tell me why we didn't move away from Vegas again?"

"She just wants the best for her son," Alex smiled. "For me, it was the 'Army? You're joining the Army?' talk and a week of tears and near-hysterics. She was afraid I was going to get killed by a sniper or and IED."

He paused. "Well, a chopper I was in _did_ get shot down, but I survived."

"It all just reminds me of why I ran away from home, honestly," Lya mutters to herself as she pours another drink and scoots in down the counter. "I don't know why you stay here, Hitoshi... but me, I stay for the excitement... and things look like they're getting a little too dull around here again for my tastes." She grabs her staff, spins around and hops off her stool with a flare of her coat as she slips her flask back into her pocket. "Whatta you say, guys?" She looks around at Hitoshi and her band mates. "If that party is any good it's got to still be going on. All else fails we might get lucky and the Lobos are even stupider than I thought."

Toxic picks up two coffee cups and clinks them together as she sings out "Lobos... come out and play-ay..."

Klepto lets out a loud laugh. "I knew we shouldn't have watched that movie."

Hitoshi can't help but laugh. "No, she's great. That was perfect. As for the party, I say lets get going, I'm up for a good time!"

"Like I said, I've got work to do. Spent the day in court, now it's time to play catch-up," Alex shrugs. "It was a good day, though. Got an innocent man acquitted."

"Well then I'd say it was a fantastic day all around," Lya grins as she reaches out to shake his hand. "Till the next time." She reaches into her coat pocket and leaves $40 on the counter. "Sorry about the crazy, Maggie!" she calls out before heading towards the door and holding it open. "Hitoshi? Ladies? Time for the ramblers to keep on rambling..."

"We're going to a par-ty! We're going to a par-ty!" The Furies sing out in unison as they strut out the door.


	2. Daughter of Heimdall

It's a quiet drive to the University. Something about the scene at the diner didn't add up, least of all the mysterious appearance of the four ready-to-rumble women, none of whom seemed particularly impressed by the little boys playing _tipos duros_. And Alex North. Typical lawyer, but the gang member had reacted like the Jaws of Life had a lock on his shoulder. Evie sensed that no one would remember those parts of the story, chalking up the resolution to a timely dollop of good sense and the presence of a police detective.

Night classes had let out. A few students were milling about the student union, which was doing its usual beer-and-a-movie night, featuring _Spider-Man 2_. The sign had been decorated with Halloween-style cobwebs. The academic buildings were quiet. A campus security guard directed her to the Archaeology wing. Janitors were just starting on their rounds and paid her no mind.

"Dr. Fisk?" she asked, entering the lab. She could see the sarcophagus in the next room, the brightly-lit workspace in sharp relief to the dimly-lit office area.  
A desk lamp snapped on. "I'm afraid Dr. Fisk has gone home for the evening. You must be Detective Cartwright. I'm Dr. Hall. You're here about the find?"

"Yes. Human remains, I'm told."

"Indeed. Let's go into the lab and you can have a look." Work on the find had stopped with the discovery of the skeleton. "Tell me what you see," Hall asked. "I'm always interested in a different perspective."

Evie noted the obvious. A skeleton, clad in the faded blue serge of a police uniform. Badge left behind, sidearm and walkie-talkie missing. The right hand was gone, the point of separation a clean one at the joint. The uniform evinced several bullet holes - right thigh, right abdomen, right shoulder, but a complete evaluation would be difficult without the body. And what was probably the fatal blow, a depression in the skull - possibly from a pry bar or baseball bat.

Evie had trouble reconciling those injuries with the missing-presumed-dead story that had made the official report. The practice with cold cases was to question everything, re-examine old assumptions, revisit old clues. A police cruiser found in a culvert, its door allegedly torn off by flood waters, the officer driving it believed swept away. There were no readily-available aerial reconnaissance resources in the day, no thermal or FLIR (Forward-Looking InfraRed) cameras to pinpoint the fading heat of a dead body beneath a layer of mud and debris.

The bullet holes didn't follow the model of a gangland execution, but that didn't mean there hadn't been some kind of exchange. Cardinelli is wounded in the open, makes it to his cruiser and takes cover behind the door. About to radio for backup when someone smears him across the pavement. Injury to skull from a point of impact, perhaps the door handle. Loss of hand because his hand was inside the car.

Maybe.

But like the events at the diner, Evie had a feeling there was more to it than that. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and tabs over to the flashlight app. Flipping her phone around so that the light shines into the sarcophagus, she begins peering around, looking for any other bits of bone that may be in the box. As she looks, she says, "That's a mighty clean separation there, at the wrist. Now, my first thought is that he lost the hand when the car door was violently closed on it, but that doesn't seem quite right. There are a ton of little bones in the wrist and a car door isn't meant to slice. It crushes. So, there would be damage to either the ends of the radius and ulna or even some of those little wrist bones (I can never remember all their names) still embedded in the flesh at the base. Without something that actually _slices_, it's not going to be that clean."

She stops and thinks, "Well, actually, I guess it's possible that it could be that clean if the door slammed further down on the hand and the flesh tore. But, that would mean that all the wrist bones would've had to stay with the hand and none with the arm. Still seems unlikely that you wouldn't wind up with a few of them still hanging around. Heck, could you even cut off a hand with a car door? Is that even possible? How much pressure would it take to do that? Maybe if someone rammed his car door with their own but that would've caused more than just head trauma and a lost hand. There would've been multiple fractures..."

Evie stops and mutters, "Was the hand even found? They didn't have a body so had no idea that a hand was even missing. No need to look for one...but that doesn't mean that one didn't turn up, somewhere, and was never accounted for."

Mentally, she makes a note to do a search for any unidentified body parts turning up around that time.

Turning to Dr. Hall, Evie asks, "Do you have a pair of gloves I could borrow? I'd like to search his pockets." She smiles and adds, "I got the call while I was at a restaurant and didn't run by HQ before coming here. It was late enough that I wasn't sure that anyone would be here if I took the extra time."

Dr. Hall offers a box of disposable gloves. "You've already seen more than most," he says. "I think Carleton has a greater interest in the sarcophagus itself, actually."

The dead man's pockets yield a wallet - a driver's license for Thomas Cardinelli, an assortment of bills totalling fifty-four dollars. A receipt from another diner in town. A photo of a pretty young woman - possibly a girlfriend, as records didn't indicate the officer had been married. And a ring tucked into a utility pouch on his Sam Browne belt. The ring looks to be silver, with no setting. It appears to be a simple coil of rope, and nothing more.

"I suppose you'll want to take those," Hall says, rummaging through a couple of drawers before finding plastic bags that will do for evidence collection.

She gratefully accepts the bags and collects the contents of the pockets. She can examine those more closely, later.

She takes a step back and looks at the sarcophagus itself. Turning to Dr. Hall, she says, "What can you tell me about the sarcophagus? If this is genuine and not some Vegas prop, it's not exactly the sort of thing that shows up in the North American west."

"The sarcophagus is made of meteoric iron. And, yes, it's a single piece. One meteor. Legend claims it was wrought by the Dwarves," Hall says, studyng Evie's face for a reaction. "The inscription was added later, a portion of the Poetic Edda that speaks to Ragnarok. The ultimate battle presaging the End of All Things."

"Fisk doesn't believe in 'fairy tales,' of course, and he's very persuasive," Dr. Hall notes. "He'll prevail with the Board of Regents, the Sarcophagus will end up in a musty basement unless it's found by the right people."

"Wait...Ragnarok...," Evie stops and narrows her eyes at the sarcophagus, her mind making connections. It had been a long time since she had heard the old, Nordic tales but, for some reason, her mind recalls her younger brother reading off the stories during his anthropology studies. Ian was always fascinated by such legends and was eager to share his knowledge.

"And, this is an officer of the law. An officer who is missing his hand, the same as...Tyr? Yeah, it's Tyr. Odin was the one missing an eye..." She crosses her arms and peers at it, "Huh. Well, now...that can't be coincidence."

She rakes her brain, trying to think of any strange, Nordic cults floating around out there but she draws a blank. Anytime she's heard of anyone professing to still worship the Nordic gods, it's been in the context of those New Age folks. They can be a little weird, but generally harmless.

She then realizes what Dr. Hall has said and turns back to him, "Wait. What you said seems to indicate that this sarcophagus is not just some sarcophagus. (Well, anything made of a whole piece of meteoric iron is going to be special, regardless...) But, it sounds like this is a specific,_special_ thing. What is it?"

She glances back at Officer Cardinelli, a touch confused, "Whoever did this...it's symbolic? Someone buried Tyr.."

"I doubt that it's actually _Tyr_," said Hall. "Gods, or god-like beings, are pretty tough. And the Norse Gods are big on prophecy. Buried in a sarcophagus is not how Tyr's story ends."

"Tyr sacrifices his hand to bind the Fenris Wolf. You're probably right about it being symbolic, however. Today, the phrase is 'send them a message.'"

Evie blinks, caught completely off-guard. This man is speaking as though the gods are _real._ Or, is he? Her lips clamp down in a thin line of frustration. Normally, life is very clear to her. Oh, certainly, there are mysteries to be solved. However, those mysteries are simply logic puzzles to be turned over and inside out, things to be examined and finally solved.

Standing here, in this man's presence...she's just not _sure._ Things seem muddled and she has no idea why. No rational being would suggest that all of those legends were real. But, something in him seems to undeniably radiate Truth. And, something inside of her resonates with that.

But, surely...naaaaah. _This guy is just a scholar who likes to speak of his specialty as though it's real...Right?_ she thinks.

Trying to pull her mind back to what she knows, to the rational world, she mutters, "So who is sending the message? And who is it intended for?"

"The gods and their ... agents," Hall said quietly. "You among them, Evie Cartwright. This is more than a cold case. You can see it. And it is no longer safe for you to remain in the dark, daughter."

"I am Heimdall, Guardian of the Bifrost between Asgard and this world," he says. The quiet demeanor of a professorial sort is gone; Hall/Heimdall stands at-ease, with his hands clasped before him - a pose any security or law enforcement professional knows well.

"Say what?" Evie manages to mutter, her jaw falling slack.

In all of her life, she has rarely been really, truly, UTTERLY surprised. But, now...she stands there blinking in shock as her brain scrambles to try and make sense of the conflicting information that her mind and intuition are feeding her.

One the one hand, her brain is doing a fantastic job of giving her the ol' dope-slap, _Are you nuts? This guy isn't for real. Who let this nutjob into the lab? The Norse gods and Ragnarok and the World Tree and all that Viking bologna are all just legends!_

But, her gut says otherwise. Oh, does it ever object to what her mind is trying to tell her. She can feel the truth of those words ring in her very core. Evie can feel herself want to relax and stand at attention before Heimdall, both her chief and...her father?

"Woah, woah, woah...hold on there, cowboy," she walks over to the desk and pulls out a chair, plopping herself down into it before she does something stupid like falling down.

Evie looks at Heimdall, still trying to reconcile everything within herself. After a few more moments of inner struggle, she manages to beat down the part of her that desperately wants to believe without any kind of proof. The rational part of her brain takes over and she says softly, "Prove it."

The man who claims to be Heimdall spreads his hands, and an aura of soft light comes into being about him.

"You won't remember me. Deirdre and I parted ways before you were born. I've kept an eye on you, from Asgard. A word in the right ear here and there, to make sure your career stayed on track.

"A storm is coming. Perhaps it's Ragnarok, perhaps not. But we're talking about forces that will change the world, and not for the better. So here we are. A little father-daughter chat.

"You're free to choose, of course," he says kindly. "You have to be. Otherwise it's just more of what the other side does, _forcing_ things to be as they want, with mortals as ... toys. Amusements."

At first, Evie crosses her arms and looks skeptical. She's seen plenty of Vegas acts that could easily pull off a soft light show like that. But...

_...but what does he have to gain by making these claims if they aren't true? What would be the motivation? True or not, I'd never breathe a word of this to anyone on the force. Regardless of the validity, I'd be laughed out of the office._

Besides that, her gut is still happily telling her that it's true. And her gut is rarely wrong. All of her life, she's had a bit of a sixth sense about things, able to sense trouble before it happens, hearing the truth or lies in the pitch of a voice.

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, "I'm sorry. It's just a lot to take in. I mean, can you blame me for finding it a little tough to believe? Ragnarok...the end of the world...let alone me, the daughter of a god. It's just...well..." Evie makes a vague hand motion, waving as if to indicate something tremendous.

"But, it is true. I guess. My intuition has never steered me wrong before and it's saying that you are Heimdall," as soon as she says the words, as soon as she lets herself entertain the idea that it's not such a far-fetched thing, she begins to relax.

Evie stands up and walks back over to the sarcophagus. She looks down at Officer Cardinelli's body and she knows that there is only one choice that she can make. She is an officer of the law, herself. She stands to protect the innocent, despite the terrible things that have been done by some power-hungry and ignorant people within the law enforcement community.

"This is a message. As such, the choice of Officer Cardinelli wasn't a coincidence, I'm betting. Not just any cop would do. I reckon he was a child of Tyr," she says softly.

"So, I have a new case. Do I have any allies that I can call?" she asks, her choice clear.

"Thomas' death is a warning, and a challenge. The warning is obvious; the forces that would bring Ragnarok and an end to the reign of the gods - the Aesir and other pantheons - are changing the rules. It was once thought that the outright killing of another Scion was out of bounds."

"Rules in a knife fight?" Evie murmured. One of her brothers was always spouting movie lines.

"The challenge was more specific. This sarcophagus was warded against my sight. Not permanently - just long enough to bury it under a building. That's to undermine my authority, and perhaps drive a wedge between myself and Tyr and others."

"You may find that a mundane answer will satisfy your superiors, simply because most mortals have forgotten about us in favor of gods of their own making," Heimdall advised. "Where it leads you, personally, I cannot predict."

"Thomas was, perhaps, a bit over-confident in his abilities; that was, in the end, his undoing. I am pleased you have the sense to recognize this is not a tasking to bear alone. Another of Tyr's sons has found his way to Las Vegas; you have crossed his path before - his name is Alex North. There are others, but the best alliances are built on friendship as well as common purpose. You will find them in short order."

There's a rattling sound. Someone trying the door to the lab; a janitor, most likely.

"I warded the door against mortals," Heimdall smiles. "But we still have much to do."

Evie listens, taking it all in. Several times, she has to smack down the part of her brain that still insists this whole thing is patently insane.

She waits patiently for the rattling to stop and the sounds of footsteps wandering away before she continues. She's positive that the janitor will be back around, soon.

"Other pantheons? Then, the Aesir aren't the only ones that exist...," she mutters softly as she starts taking pictures of the sarcophagus and the body with her phone. It's always good to have photos for later observation, in case something was missed.

"What is the political scene among the gods? I think I remember that Loki was troublemaker for you...us...I guess," it feels strange to include herself in something as vast as the gods and their kin. "What about the other pantheons? Who would want to move forward with something like this?"

She grins over the top of the sarcophagus as she continues to take photos from a kneeling position, close to it to capture details of the writing, "Who'd ya piss off, chief?"

_Chief._ That feels more comfortable to Evie. It's easier to think of Heimdall as a superior officer than as a father. After all, Jason is the man who raised her. He is the one who let her sit behind the wheel of his vintage cars and make "vroom" noises while he worked, held her when she cried and taught her how to make the most excellent BBQ this side of the Mississippi.

"Most of the gods worshipped by man are real. So are the Titans, the Frost Giants, whatever you want to call them. Ragnarok isn't just a battle of opposing armies, it's a battle for free will."

Heimdall lets the light show dim. "And this is where we need you, our Scions. You are children of this world as well as ours. You have a better grasp of technology and mass media. Frankly, we're a headstrong lot and we need your help."

"But you've a long way to go before you come into your full power," he says. "You're going to need some help."

He takes several items out of the pocket of his lab coat and sets them on the counter beside you. The first is a duplicate of your detective's badge. Then there's a pair of sunglasses. And last, there's a collapsible baton.  
"The badge and the glasses will unlock your powers. If you lose them, you lose those powers," he says. "The baton doesn't grant any special powers, but it's a good measure harder than the standard issue. I understand people don't run around with swords any more. Well, most people, anyway."

"I'm afraid there's not an instruction manual. Your powers will grow over time, and you may find you have an affinity for purviews that I do not."

Evie smiles and shakes her head ever so slightly at that answer. It doesn't look like Heimdall is going to offer any insight into how the gods get along. So, she'll just have to do her own research later. Assuming that the old legends are true, it should give her some clues as to who or what would want to bring about such chaos. Wikipedia holds all the answers! She ceases her photography and moves to Heimdall, reverently accepting these completely ordinary looking gifts. But, no matter how unassuming they appear, she can feel an instant connection to them.

"Thank you," she says. Evie takes a moment to shuffle some things around in her purse...well...bag. There's no way it could ever qualify as a purse in most women's eyes. It was big, clunky and entirely utilitarian, with plenty of pockets for carrying whatever she may need. She clears out a pouch and makes sure there is nothing heavy in the nearby compartments before slipping the glasses in. She also takes the time to switch out her mundane badge with her divine badge.

The detective returns her attention to Cardinelli's corpse. Very carefully, she begins combing over him. Not just his pockets, but his blues and everything else. She even turns over his badge and looks at the back of it.

"Sometimes, people who want to send a message also leave a calling card. They want the recipient to to know who they should fear..." she says softly as she carefully moves Cardinelli's bones.

"The gods simply call them the Titans. For the Greek gods, they are their actual forbears; for the Aesir, they aren't what-came-before, but the darkness that comes after. It's like a low pressure system; you can't _see_ it, but there are winds and storms as a physical manifestation," Heimdall says.

"I would start with Armand Roget, the owner of the building where the sarcophagus was found. If he was not directly involved, then perhaps he has associates or sponsors who were."

Evie nods as she continues to look, "Yeah, that's where I was planning on starting after I finished here. But, I figured that I may as well be thorough while I have everything right here in front of me. Considering the circumstances, I don't know if I'll get to see this again. If there are agents working against us, they could well move to have this thing tucked away from sight, now that the message has been delivered, and I might miss a clue."

"Plus," she continues, "I'm guessing that this wasn't placed in the Roget building by a god or titan or whatever. It was probably another child of a god and, as awesome as they may be, I'd imagine that they are just as capable of fucking up a crime scene as anyone else."

"There still might be something tangible in here that could provide a clue."

Evie suddenly realized her mind was sorting through tidbits of forensic expertise, gleaned from the techies at CSI over her career. The size of the bullet holes told her the caliber of weapon - a .45 - and the clean-through shots spoke to jacketed slugs. The placement suggested it was panic fire, rather than targeted, from someone who did not expect resistance, like a police officer and Scion approaching them. The wounds, then, spoke to the action of a second person. A blow to remove Cardinelli's gun hand ... with a weapon imbued by the gods or through magic, explaining the clean cut. But wouldn't Thomas have had similar gifts to hand? The ring, possibly - though Evie was hesitant to try it on. There must be something more. Unable to move the body, she began feeling under the edge of where Cardinelli's torso would have been. And her fingers brushed against something. She paused, probed a bit more, then felt her fingers close upon the haft of a weapon. It had probably been dislodged when the sarcophagus was moved. It was a blade, and she could feel the power in it. Not even age and disuse could hide or diminish the quality of the weapon. And she knew Thomas hadn't been holding his sidearm, but the sword when he was struck down. It hadn't been a simple police matter at all, but the affairs of the gods ...

Evie chews on her bottom lip, trying to decide whether to leave the weapon where it is or take it for safekeeping. On the one hand, a regular person isn't going to be able to do much with it if it is found...and she is sure that it will be once forensics shows up. On the other hand, if it should be discovered by a scion of an enemy (and she doesn't even know who that would be, yet!) then it could possibly be used for great harm.

"Heimdall, these gifts from the gods...could another scion use them? Like, if someone got a hold of my badge, could they use it?" Another thought occurs to her, even as the words are out of her mouth, and she mutters, "But, if they could use Thomas' weapon, why would he be buried with it? Why didn't they take it?"

Maybe the only thing that she has to worry about is what the forensics team would think about a...what? sword? axe? dagger?...hard to tell what it is just by that one touch...being buried with the body. She snorts in amusement at that thought. _As if being in a sarcophagus like this is just an everyday thing..._The whole thing is so weird that the weapon will probably be written off.

"If you _lose_ a relic, you lose any access it provides. In time, as you grow into your power, you will not need them," Heimdall says. "If, on the other hand, a relic is _stolen_ \- taken from you with knowledge of its special qualities - then the thief will have access to those purviews while you do not."

"Depending on the nature of the relic, a Scion may or may not be able to sense where it is. You could mark it with a Vigil Brand, for example, and be able to track it for a day."

Heimdall looks at Cardinelli's skeleton and sighs as if acknowledging a failure on his part. "Thomas' killers didn't take any relics he carried because they felt they had no use for the purviews he had access to. And because the gods are not beyond a bit of Machiavellian design. Think of it like stealing someone's cell phone when it can be tracked via GPS."

"So there's no particular harm in leaving Thomas' sword with him, other than it becomes something that needs to be explained."

"In that case, I'll leave him his things. It's not like the relic will be any weirder than a sarcophagus with runes all along the side," she sighs softly. "Besides, everything should go back to his family. I know it's been a long time and he was already assumed dead, but I'm sure they will be glad to at least have the closure that a body brings."

She glances at the door and says, "I don't think there's much else I can get out of this scene. I should probably skedattle and let the janitor do his job."

Turning, she looks at Heimdall and is truly at a loss as to what to say or do, at this point. All of it, this whole affair, is just...overwhelming. She's not sure how she's supposed to feel or what she should say.

"So, uhhh...see ya around...I...guess," Evie stands there awkwardly.

"If the Norns ordain our paths should cross, they will," is all Heimdall says. "Much may come and go before then."

Whatever glamour or disguise Heimdall held to appear as a professorial sort fades. His lab coat becomes a knight's surcoat that is the kind of white that popular detergent brands promise to deliver. Golden armor gleams beneath it, and the legendary sword _Hofung_. His aspect brightens until he is wreathed in bright light.  
The light fades, and Heimdall is gone.

"Oh, boy," Evie breathes. She makes her way out of the lab.

From his vantage astride the Bifrost, Heimdall watches his daughter briefly. "I am proud of you, daughter. I wish you safe travels, though we both know your road will be dark."


	3. Proper Introductions

The next day, Evie spends most of her time working on the Davison case at HQ. After all, Officer Cardinelli isn't getting any deader. Therefore, cold cases usually take a back burner to anything that is more recent. Still, she presents her preliminary findings to her commanding officer...minus all the divine information. She also puts in a request for records of any unidentified hands from about the time that Cardinelli disappeared.

Once evening rolls around, the detective's mind turns back to the events of the night before. She needs to get in contact with Alex and Ms Bach as soon as possible. Alex's office isn't all that far from police headquarters, so she decides to walk over there and see if he is in. If she shows up on his doorstep late, it could be a good excuse to invite him to dinner to discuss things.

But, how to approach Ms. Bach? She turns several ideas over in her head, at first considering using her brother Ian as a draw. But, she quickly dismisses that idea. She's really not keen on pulling her family into this. If things get nasty, she doesn't want there to be any connections at all between the rest of her family and what she is investigating. Who knows what kind of powers her enemies might have? If he's there at their first meeting and an enemy discovers it, they could jump to the wrong conclusion.

Instead, she pulls out her phone and looks up the number she had found earlier in the day. All it had taken was a bit of light digging for her to locate Ms. Bach's cell number. She dials as she walks, then awaits an answer.

Hands scramble out from under the sheets and grab at the annoying device that would dare to remind her how late that CD party _did_ in fact go on last night. The Furies were in full form and looking to let off some steam after their little encounter so they had played a high energy set that kept the party going until the early morning hours.

Finally her hand hits upon it and she sits up against her pillows and blearily pulls her hair out of her face as she answers her phone.

"Lya... talk at me," she mutters into it as she leans over and searches through her drawer for her cigarettes.

"Ms. Bach, hello. This is Officer Evie Cartwright. We met last night at Soul Food. I just wanted to check up on you, today, to make sure that you were all right. I wouldn't have put it past the Lobos to circle back around and try to even the score after everyone cleared out," as she talks, she tries to think of something convincing and not weird to get the singer to meet her.

"Uhhmm...so, I was wondering...would you like to drop by my apartment, this evening, for a drink?" mentally, she smacks herself. _Oh gawd, it sounds like I'm trying to pick her up._

Lya chuckled to herself as she lit her cigarette and readjusted her cell phone against her ear. "Between you and everyone else I think they thought twice about it, as we didn't hear hide nor hair out of them on the way to the party. Shame you were on duty and all... I could've got you in and then you'd _really_made your brother jealous."" she takes a long drag off her cigarette before she continues. "But since you''re offering, I take it you're off the clock? I wouldn't pass up the chance to finally get that drink Officer Evie. You want the whole entourage, or is this a private affair?"

"That's good to hear," Evie answers evenly, though she knows that her cheeks are probably burning red from what she perceives as a colossal, social goof. But, Lya seems to be taking it in stride so...maybe not?

Evie stops at an intersection and watches traffic, waiting for the all clear to cross the street. Her eyes flick across the other pedestrians as she talks, "Well, my apartment is only so big. I'm not sure the whole crew will fit comfortably at my table but...you're welcome to bring who you like."

"By the way, I'm going to order food for everyone. This is sort of impromptu and I think about all I have in the fridge is mustard and couple of apples. Is there anything that you like or don't like?"

Traffic stops and the green "cross now" sign begins to flash. The detective hustles across the street.

Lya takes another drag of her cigarette and smiles. "I like long walks along the beach and dancing the night away, Officer Evie," she replies sweetly, "but barring that, good rum and interesting conversation will do. I'll give Hitoshi a call and we'll see you tonight. " She crawls over her bed to her nightstand and grabs a pencil and paper. "What's the address?"

Evie gives Lya the address. Her apartment is located in a modest part of town, away from the bustle of the main strip, "I look forward to seeing you. Take care," Evie hangs up. Still standing outside of the building, she heaves a sigh.

_Well, that wasn't awkward!_ she thinks. Evie is certain that Lya was yanking her chain, a bit. After all, her friend Hitoshi will be coming, as well. Still, she can't help but mock herself a bit, _Thus begins the adventures of Socially Awkward Scion Evie!_

She chuckles at herself, shaking her head, before taking the stairs up to Alex's office.

_Alex North, Attorney at Law / Al Graf Bail Bonds_

It's a small duplex, the bondsman on the ground floor, the attorney on the second. Oddly enough, North doesn't seem to take many referrals from his downstairs neighbor. Instead, his record seems to speak to championing the underdog. A contentious rape case involving a soldier at Torii Base in Japan. A wrongful death case against the NYPD. And, just the other day, an acquittal in a case where a witness had identified the defendant in a line-up, but nothing else had supported that assertion.  
The lights are on, and the door is propped open to let some of the cool evening air inside. Nonetheless, Evie knocks on the door frame and announces herself.

There's North's desk, a lightweight jacket draped over the chair. Two suit coats and several ties hang from a coat tree - for court appearances, no doubt. The desk is full, but neatly organized.  
The center of the room features a small couch and armchairs, for more informal conversations. An assortment of magazines, not all that different than most waiting rooms, lay on a coffee table.  
In the back, a row of barrister-style bookcases. Another desk that is much more cluttered, books and papers speaking to North's workload.  
In the corner, there's a small table with a microwave oven and a mini-fridge. A water cooler stands beside it, and several bottles/empties sit under the table.

"Detective Cartwright," Alex says. "What can I do for you?"

Evie wanders into the office, her hands stuffed in her pockets. She smiles and says, "Well, Mr. North, I was hoping I could ask for your help on a new case that has been tossed my way."

She looks at the piles of papers on the man's desk and gives a soft grimace. She knows all too well what it is like to be buried under paperwork, "I see that you probably already have a full plate and I hate to add more to it but, this is something that I feel would benefit from your unique perspective."

She pulls a hand out of her pocket to run through her perpetually untidy hair, "I was wondering if you would mind dropping by my apartment later tonight to talk. I've asked over another consultant who I feel will also be helpful. I figured it would be easier if we all met in one place so I don't have repeat myself."

"I'm also springing for dinner. I figure it's the least I can do for everyone if you all are going to put in a bit of overtime on my behalf. What do you say? Lend a gal a hand?" she looks at him hopefully.

"Paperwork is paperwork. Never seems to be less, only more. I tried complaining to the boss, but he reminds me the paperwork starts with 'P,' the same as paycheck," Alex laughs, referring to himself. "Some of this is just tidying up after yesterday's hearing."

"Sure, I'll stop by. Although if it's a police matter, you should probably talk to someone in Clemens' office."

"Thanks! I really appreciate it," she reaches out to shake Alex's hand. "And, uh...no. No. I'm pretty positive that you are the man for this job."

Not sure if he has her address, she jots it down on a piece of paper for him, along with her home phone and cell number. As she hands it to him, she smiles and says, "Well, I need to get on the road. I walked over, so I need to get back to my car and then see about getting food for everyone. See you tonight."

With a final wave of farewell, she starts to hoof it back to her car. Once she reaches the old, dusty Camry, the plops herself into the driver's seat and pushes in a David Bowie CD. On the drive over to the ABC Store, she allows herself to finally relax, not think, and just enjoy the music. Though she has the singing ability of a camel with laryngitis, she still merrily sings along to "Let's Dance."

At the ABC Store, she buys a nice variety of alcohol. She knows that Lya is fond of rum, so she asks the clerk which is good and buys that. She also picks up a nice whiskey and a few micro-brew beers for variety.

Once she has all the hooch that she thinks will be needed, she swings by Soul Food, again. Since everyone was there last night, she's certain that everyone will like whatever she gets from here. She settles onto a seat at the bar and places an order for a bunch of chicken, some collard greens, hush puppies, and black-eyed peas - enough for four people. For dessert, she orders an entire blueberry pie.

She spends the time waiting alternately searching the internet for information about every pantheon she can think of, chatting with Maggie and watching stupid videos on YouTube.

Finally, she makes her way home and prepares for her guests to arrive.

Lya pads across the cold floor into the bathroom and stares at the smeared make-up and lipstick marks in various colors on her cheeks. "Yeah... that was a good night," she chuckles before turning around and starting the water for a shower so it can heat up. When you're living above a club, you learn to be patient with the plumbing.

With one hand she grabs a toothbrush and with the other she slides open her phone and presses the speed dial for her friend. Thank the Gods it's not the weekend, which means he's probably at work and she can avoid talking to his mother with her constant nagging about "getting a real job." _If only she knew what my real job was..._

"Hitoshi, my man... what's shaking?" She calls into the phone once she hears someone pick up.

Hitoshi, having been up since 6 AM was hard at work on a Buick Skylark that was brought in. Deep under the hood and covered in grease, he was so absorbed in his work that his phone ringing startles him causing him to bang his head on the underside of the hood. "Fuck! Damnit! Ooww. Hitoshi here." he says as he answers the phone and rubs the top of his head. He straightens up ad cracks his back as Lya speaks. "Oh hey Lya. Great party last night, hows the hangover and the voice?" He grins knowing just how much she slammed back, and just how much the band had sung.

"Nothing a few hot toddies won't cure," Lya jokes as she leans against the sink. "As to a hangover, I wouldn't know... you know full well it takes more than a few drinks to bring this girl down. Anyway... got a curious call from our friendly neighborhood police officer today checking in on us and asking us over for drinks now that she's off duty tonight. Wanna come with? It was too early in the morning for me to tell if she was asking me out on a date or not... figured it'd be easier for everyone involved if I brought you along with me, dude."

Hitoshi scratches his head. "Yea sure, I got nothing to do after work... I assume this is happening after work, and not right now... right? Because if it's right now, I can't make it. Job and all that." He grimaces knowing the tongue lashing he might get.

"You're safe, dude... she said this evening. Stop by my place after work and we'll head over there. Until then, I've got a hot bath with my name all over it. See ya!"

Hitoshi heads out of work a few minutes early to prepare. After showering, shaving, and picking out an ash grey suit with blue tie affair, he hops into his second vehicle, a 2013 Chevy Camaro, and heads over to Lya's to pick her up.

"La-dee-dah," Lya sings out as she skips down the stairs in low cuffed boots, black leather pants and a purple mesh top with black bra underneath. "I bet Daddy's gonna have words if you scratch this baby," she says as she walks to her side running her finger along the edge before getting in next to Hitoshi. "Here's the address..." she tosses a crumpled piece of paper at him, "let's get this baby moving!"

Hitoshi grins and looks at Lya over the top of his shades. "Yea, I will absolutely ground myself if I crash this car. I still have five years worth of payments on her. I should have bought a Honda, but..." He revs the engine and peels out. "...then I wouldn't look so hot in a Honda." He glances at the address and takes a screeching right turn at the light. "Drive it like you stole it!"

"'Should've bought a...' are you telling me that fixing cars got you this thing? I find that hard to believe." she looks up the street at a Goth with his long coat flapping in the breeze and slaps her leg excitedly as she rolls down the window.

"Ooo... slow down for a sec... " she swiftly unbuckles her seatbelt and leans out the window with two middle fingers raised. "Suck it, Stevie!"

She then sits back down and re-buckles herself with a wide grin on her face. "Long story..."

"Yep. Damn thing cost me Fifteen thousand. Gonna be making Payments of Two Fifty for the next Five years." He grins. "Still, you seem to be enjoying it. See? a great day job can get you good things." Reaching into the console he pulls out a pack of smokes, and lights one up. Then he holds the pack out to Lya. They are Clove cigarettes.

She takes a clove and flicks out a lighter from her pocket before leaning back with a long puff of smoke. "You already know what job I have, Hitoshi... and being stuck clocking in at a 9-5 doesn't seem that inviting when you're supposed to be helping to save the world and shit. I like the nightlife and the travel... other than good friends and even better alcohol, what else does a girl need, eh?"

She takes another long drag from the clove as she watches the city pass by her window. "As much as I'd love to make a new girlfriend, something tells me that Officer Evie has more to offer than alcohol tonight."

Meanwhile, back at her apartment, Evie is hurriedly trying to make the place decent. It's not that she's a slob or anything. She's not! Her place is actually fairly neat. The problem is that it's dusty and feels unused. She just sleeps here! Most of her time is spent at HQ, the lab, out investigating, with her family or friends...

So, now, she's scurrying about with a rag, wiping layers of dust off of end tables and shelves, straightening up books that have been left lying on counters and closing doors to messy areas, like her laundry room.

What decorations she has feel disjointed, like several different people have attempted to style the place. That's because that is exactly what has happened. There are pretty floral paintings from her mother, wacky statuettes from her best friend, movie posters from her brothers, model cars that she made with her father...there is no running theme in this place.

The one thing that is hers and hers alone is the tall shelf in the living room that is covered with books. Fantasy, horror and sci-fiction books line the shelves, along with a neat row of journals. Each spine is labeled with the year that it covers. Below that is another stack of journals. These, however, are unmarked.

Hitoshi snorts. "Saving the world? Really? Yea, neither of us do that... yet. But the band is a great job for you. You have your job, and I have mine. It all works out... for both of us." He cranks the radio to his favorite tunes... Hard Rock and Metal. Punk was his second Favorite. A few minute later he pulls up in front of an apartment building. "This looks like the place." Parking the car he gets out, snags his cane, and walks over to open the door for Lya, ever the gentleman to his friend.

"Sure we do, Hitoshi," Lya replies as she grabs her own cane and steps out of the car with a smile. "we just do it one person at a time. You know, like Alex with that innocent man... and us stopping that gang last night." She walks up to a wall of name plates with buzzers and scans them till she finds what she hopes is the right one and presses it. "You don't have to do it all at once, you know."

Hitoshi shrugs. "Maybe you are right Lya... shit, almost forgot. " he walk back over to the car and pulls out a bouquet of flowers. "It is proper to bring the host a gift."

"Is my presence not enough of a gift already?" Lya jokes with a wink before a voice crackles over the speaker...

Evie is busily shaking a bouquet of fake flowers that appears to be covered with about two centuries worth of dust as the buzzer to her apartment rings.

"Oh, shit..." she looks at the cloud of tiny dust particles hanging in the air and hopes that no one has allergies. She tosses the fake flowers onto her bed, giving up on making them look nice. She figures hiding them in there is good enough.

Quickly moving to the door, she presses the intercom, "Hello?"

"The party has arrived!" Lya's voice cheerfully announces, her usually lovely voice distorted by the building's old technology.

"Come on up," Evie answers, buzzing her in.

The detective then scurries to the windows and throws them open, hoping that a breeze will come through and carry away some of the dust.

Hitoshi holds the door open for Lya. "Nope, neve... okay, most of the time it is." He tries to look serious, but can't help cracking a grin. Once they are inside the building elevator, he pops a mint into his mouth and offers one to Lya. "Can't go up with our breath smelling bad, now can we?"

Lya looks at the mint with a raised eyebrow as she snuffs out her cigarette. "She called me over for drinks, dude... wouldn't want to mar the taste of good rum."

They take the elevator up to her floor and find the door number written down on the paper. "Shave and a hair cut..." she mutters as she knocks rhythmically on the door.

Hitoshi smiles and pops the mint into his own mouth. "Yea, but what if she offers Mint bailies in coffee?"

"Then the mint will be properly blended with alcohol and caffeine... as was intended," she replies before she starts drumming the beat to their latest hit on the door.

Alex is still sifting through paperwork when his smartphone chimes, reminding him of the invitation to dinner.  
He decides to swing past a convenience mart to pick up a bottle of wine. Evie's invitation didn't strike him as being entirely social, but a social courtesy would still be appropriate.

He's bending down to take a closer look at a label when he hears the door's photo-sensor chime.  
"The money, _pendejo_. Gimme the money," someone snarls.  
"Sure, sure, be cool," the clerk temporizes.  
"Nuh-uh, don't you be pressing no alarm button," comes the warning.

Alex stands up quietly, taking a circuitous route towards the front counter. He's almost within reach of the punk when something - a flicker in the punk's peripheral vision, a glimpse in the shoplifting mirror, a twitch in the clerk's eye - gives him away, and he's staring down the barrel of a Glock 17.  
There's a sound of thunder.  
Alex is thrown backwards and crashes into a rack of bottles. Footsteps as the punk flees, empty-handed.

"Oh, Jesus, mister, oh, Jesus, don't be dead, please, please, please," the clerk is babbling.  
Alex's eyes snap open just as the clerk is about to attempt CPR or something. There's blood down the front of his shirt, as well as a nice variety of excellent California wines.  
"Relax, I'm okay," Alex rasps. He rolls to one side, turning away from the clerk as he gets up. "Go call the police."

Three patrol cars respond in short order. By then, it's hard to distinguish the blood on North's shirt from the red wine splashed all over his clothes.  
"Description?" asks one officer.  
"Happened too fast," Alex shakes his head.  
"Clerk says the kid shot you," Saul Anderson.  
"Vest," Alex says. "Hurt like hell, but I'm okay. Except for being drenched in wine. And I had a dinner engagement. If ... if I can get back to my office, I have a go-bag, and maybe not make it look like I stood the person up."  
"Well, it's not procedure, but it's not like we don't know where to find you, Alex," Saul laughs. "Go on, get out of here. I'll get a statement from you tomorrow."

Jeans and a black 'Las Vegas' polo shirt replace his wine- and blood-stained clothes. He leaves those in a plastic bag. Stewing in wine will muddle any forensics, and though the store's security camera doubtless shows him getting shot, the convenient excuse of a ballistic vest will do.  
He glances at his watch. He'll be close to an hour late.

Meanwhile, Saul texts Evie:

__Alex North took a bullet this evening, was caught in a liquor store robbery. Suspect on camera, good ID. North says he was wearing a vest, seemed okay. Let him go, since he was drenched in wine and booze. Went back to his office to get fresh clothes, says he was meeting someone for dinner.__

Evie opens the door with a smile and gestures for Lya and Hitoshi to enter, "Thank you for coming! Come on in and make yourself comfortable."

The apartment is already filled with the delicious smells of Soul Food. Evie had put the food in the oven on low, keeping it warm while she awaited the guests, and now the aroma of chicken and warm hushpuppies wafts about.

Her apartment is a small, one bedroom, one bathroom deal. The living room, kitchen and dining room are all one room with a counter dividing the kitchen and living area.

A large, over-stuffed sofa dominates the living room. It's hideously ugly. Yellow and green paisley patterns romp merrily across the cream fabric, looking like vaguely artfully arranged puke. However, the moment you sit on it...oh...then it becomes apparent why Evie owns this monstrosity. It is like heaven! Soft and warm, it invites you to just put down your head for a second and have a nap.

"Mmmmnnn..." Lya inhales deeply as she smells the delicious scents coming from the kitchen before continuing, "seeing as we were so rudely interrupted by the Lobos last night I was glad for the invite, Evie."

"Your generosity is most humbly appreciated," ads Hitoshi with a small bow as he enters the apartment. "As is Ricks if that's his hushpuppies that I smell..."

She walks over to the couch and grins before spinning around and flopping down on the sofa. "Reminds me of one of my favorite curb scores... best couch ever as long as we put a sheet over it," she chuckled. "But I digress... there's drinks to be had, right?"

Evie returns Hitoshi's small bow without thinking. It just feels natural to offer such gestures in kind. "It is," she says. "Since we were all at Soul Food, I figured we all like their cooking."

"I wasn't sure exactly how many folks you would bring and what everyone likes, so I got a variety of alcohol," she walks over to the kitchen and takes down some glasses. "Let's see...I have rum, whiskey some micro-brews. There's also diet coke in the fridge..."

"Oh! There will be one more person joining us. I expect Alex will arrive shortly. I wouldn't be surprised if he lost track of time with work," she chats as she opens the oven, checking to make sure that nothing is getting dried out. "You met him at Soul Food, too."

"Ave victores mortuis," Lya replies softly. "I remember him." She shakes herself out of her reverie. "Anyway... rum and Diet Coke sounds superb," she calls out.

"Just the Diet Coke for me," ads Hitoshi as he takes in the pictures hanging around the apartment. "Somebody has to be the designated driver in this pair."

"Why do you think I asked you along?" Lya winks.

Hitoshi holds out the flowers to Evie. "Forgive my forgetfulness. These are for you. It is always proper to bring the host a gift."

A brilliant smile lights up Evie's face. She takes the flowers from Hitoshi and says, "Thank you! They're beautiful. Let me find something to put them in..."

She stands there and thinks for a second before an expression of "Aha!" crosses her face. She goes into her bedroom, giving her guests a quick glimpse of an unmade bed and a giant, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles poster on the wall before she emerges with a vase made from swirling, pastel glass.

"So, when's your next gig?" she asks, her question directed to both Lya and Hitoshi.

As she moves to fill the vase with water, her phone beeps from it's place on a small table by the front door.

"We're due to play at The Dive next Saturday actually... want me to swing some tickets for you and your brother?" Lya asks as she leans over the arm of the couch.

Laughing, Evie says, "That would be great! Yet again, you are securing my spot as Cool Sister." She sets the flowers down at the end of the kitchen counter, briefly. She'll find a better spot for them in a few minutes.

She glances at her phone but decides to answer it after she has gotten everyone their drinks. She pours a glass of coke for Hitoshi and mixes up some rum and coke for Lya.

"So, are you guys from Vegas originally or did work bring you here?"

"Vegas has been my home for as long as I can remember," Lya replies as she takes the drink and nods in gratitude at Evie. "Mom and I didn't see eye to eye much though... so I took to the streets till I met Hitoshi." She takes a long drink and makes a satisfied noise before whipping out her phone and sending a quick text. "So I don't forget...I'll make sure your name is on the On Call list for you and a +1 next week."

Evie, Lya and Hitoshi lounge about in the living room, chatting about nothing in particular. It's the normal "getting to know you" chatter that happens when people first sit down and meet. Lya and Hitoshi share some wild tales about happenings at their various gigs, tales of drinking and assholes and shenanigans. Hitoshi talks a bit of shop with Evie when he notices the model cars strewn about her home, but she confesses to not actually knowing much about them. Her father loves cars and, thus, likes to share his passion with her...even though she honestly couldn't tell you the difference between a carburetor and muffler.

About 30 minutes later, Evie's phone beeps again and she remembers that she had meant to check it earlier.

"Excuse me. I should probably make sure that's nothing important. Granted, if it was HQ they would call and keep calling, but...still...," she leans across the arm of the chair she's sitting in and grabs the phone. Two messages are waiting for her. She glances over them and her eyebrows creep up in surprise.

"Holy crap!" she breathes, "Alex was shot. He was at a liquor store and got caught in a robbery. Saul says he's okay, though. Says that he's on his way."

Evie clicks through to the second message, "And, yeah...here's Alex's message. He says he'll explain when he gets here."

"Daaaamn...well at least it must not have been too bad if he's on his way here in the same night, right?" She takes another drink and her rings clink against the glass as she ponders for a moment. "Here's hoping he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and it wasn't something more serious, you know?"

"Like someone looking for revenge," says Hitoshi quietly. He stays contemplatively quite after his last comment. "Your choice of decor is eclectic, but enjoyably so. I rather like it. By the way, the flowers are still sitting on the counter. They would look much better of the coffee table for you to enjoy Officer Evie."

Dressed in a manner better suited to a court appearance, Alex texts a quick 'OMW, will explain when I get there' to Evie's cell phone.

He'd lied to the officer. Alex recognized the suspect easily - it had been one of the _Manada de Lobos_, the same kid he'd grappled with the other night at the Soul Food Diner. Which probably explained the kid's willingness to pull the trigger. Once the police had pulled an image from the store's security cameras, he'd tell them he recognized the kid's face.

Fueled by whatever divine genetics ran in his veins, Alex had noticed his decidedly more-than-human abilities shortly after the conversation with his father. He worked through the entire flight from Torii Army Base back stateside, and got off the plane without feeling groggy or jet-lagged like his fellow soldiers.  
He'd been one of numerous NYC residents who'd run afoul of a salmonella outbreak, with others in his office building being laid out sick for several days. He'd had a bit of a rumbling stomach, but nothing more serious, even though they'd all had lunch at the same Chinese restaurant.  
He'd healed from small cuts before, including a painful slice from a kitchen mandoline*, but discovering he could take a bullet was a shock. Alex was thankful the officer hadn't called for an ambulance, as it would be difficult to explain how he'd survived a point-blank shot to the chest.  
He wasn't about to bank on being immortal just yet.

Traffic wasn't bad, and he made it across town without difficulty. The previous day's storm had swept through during the night, and it was simply the not-entirely uncomfortable evening heat.  
Alex checked that he had the right apartment number, and rang the doorbell.

"Yeah, Saul says he was wearing a vest. Also, he said that the security camera got a good shot of the suspect, so we'll probably have them hauled in, soon. It's hard to argue with camera footage," Evie flips her phone shut, her brows furrowing.

Shaking her head, the detective sighs, "The Lobos are a stupid bunch. I wouldn't put it past them. But still...if it was an actual hit, I imagine that they'd wait until Alex was alone somewhere. They seem the sort to stack odds in their favor...no witnesses, no help to be called...I'm betting this was a case of wrong place, wrong time."

Chuckling, Evie replies to Hitoshi's words, "Thank you! Almost everything here is a gift from someone. I've never been big into home decorating. So, my family makes up for my lack of interior design skills by getting me stuff for my birthday and Christmas. And, of course, they all have different ideas about how the place should look." Again, she laughs lightly, "But, I like it, too. I reminds me of them."

The three sit and continue to talk. About 15 minutes later, the door buzzer goes off. Hearing Alex's voice through the fuzzy intercom, she buzzes him in.

"Detective Cartwright. I apologize for being so late. I had ... an accident and had to change clothes. Which meant the suit I had at the office," Alex smiles. He offers no additional details.  
However, Evie notices a faint trace of stiffness to Alex's movements, particularly in his left shoulder as he goes to remove his suit coat. And Lya can smell the bouquet of wine - a nice California vintage - clinging to the lawyer.

"Ms. Bach and Mr. ... Ryder, yes?" he says. "Wait. Is this about the other night at the Diner? Some kind of legal problem, Hitoshi?"

Hitoshi blinks in surprise. "Legal problem sir? No, I have none that I know of. Officer Cartwright called Lya and myself here."

"Far as I know we were just invited over for drinks and conversation," Lya replies as she raises her drink. "From the smell of it though you already beat us to it? Tell me you didn't waste such a good vintage on a thug with a gun..."

"News travels fast," Alex says. "I'd wanted to bring a bottle of wine as a gift and wound up getting caught in the middle of an attempted robbery. I suppose taking a bullet with a vest on is better than 'two killed in liquor store robbery gone bad'. So I'm wearing a bit of a California Cabernet Sauvignon, yes."

Evie says nothing as Alex sticks to his story. But she's certain he wasn't wearing a vest when she visited his office earlier, and there was no reason to wear one for an invitation to dinner.

"Evie had said something about a case," he says to Hitoshi. "So I assumed it was some kind of professional consultation, even an off-the-books one."

Evie nods and smiles apologetically, "Yeaaah...I'm sorry, Lya, Hitoshi. I wasn't _entirely_ straight with you. I do have an ulterior for asking you here, tonight. This is a bit of a consultation, and most definitely off the books."

Nodding towards the dining room table, she says, "I'll grab dinner. We may as well eat while we talk."

Evie goes to the kitchen and starts pulling the food out of the oven and placing the dishes on the table. As she works to get everyone settled and food served, she talks.

"Yesterday, at the restaurant, I had a cold case dumped in my lap. Back in the 1950's, an officer named Thomas Cardinelli disappeared. Now, this took place during flash flooding. His cruiser was found in a culvert and he was gone. Everyone assumed that he had drowned and his body had been swept away."

She places a glass on the table for Alex and goes to retrieve some drink for him as she continues, "Fast forward to yesterday. I get a call that a sarcophagus was found under the Roget Building. Inside of that sarcophagus is a body - Officer Cardinelli. Still in his blues, still wearing his badge."

Evie turns and goes to retrieve her phone. Quickly, she flips to the photos she took of the scene at the university, "The sarcophagus is made of a single piece of meteoric iron and along the outside is a Poetic Edda speaking of the end of time." She hands the phone to them so that they can see.

"Officer Cardinelli is missing his hand. And...he was a Scion of Tyr. This is a warning, a challenge. I don't rightly know what's going on, yet, but I know nothing good is going to come of this."

She lets that last bit hang there, waiting to see their reactions.

_Death to the Son of Tyr!_ The memory of those words filtering over the radio as his chopper was left without air support still haunted Alex. He felt the deaths of his fellow soldiers were a score he still owed someone for.

Hearing Evie use the term 'scion of Tyr' suggests she's party to some exclusive knowledge. Specifically, that he is also a scion of a god. And what does that make Lya and Hitoshi? Scions as well?

"I'm familiar with the myth," is all Alex says. He runs his fingers through his hair as if thinking. Which is when Evie notices he's wearing a ring that is similar, if not identical, to the one Cardinelli had tucked away in his Sam Browne. "Are you suggesting someone is trying to bring about Ragnarok? The end of the world?"

Evie shrugs, "I don't know exactly what it means. All I know, for certain, is that there is a storm looming. Something is happening and we need to figure out what before it's too late."

Reaching across her plate, she takes a hushpuppy from bowl in the center of the table. She sees Alex's reluctance to come right out and say anything and, honestly, she completely understands. Had she not known for certain that he was a scion, as well, she would never admit it, either, for fear of being labeled unstable.

She looks across the table to Lya, fairly certain that she, too, is a scion. What she saw in Soul Food has her pretty much convinced that the singer also holds some measure of power.

Hitoshi...Evie isn't certain about him. However, he _did_ manage to make the Lobos member leave with nothing more than a word. Plus, his association with Lya lends credence to her idea that he may well be a scion, too.

_There is no coincidence. We were all in that restaurant at the same time for a reason. Beside...I may as well take the plunge. In for a penny, in for a pound,_ she takes a deep breath.

"I suppose I should properly introduce myself. Hi, I'm Evie Cartwright, daughter of Heimdall."

"I'm Alex North. A funny thing happened on the way to dinner: I got shot at point-blank range by a young man who I confronted the other night at the diner. And, no, I wasn't wearing a vest," Alex says quietly. "Heimdall's daughter, is it? Well met. I guess that makes us cousins, of a sort."

"I _knew_ something was going on," Lya exclaims as she slaps the table. "I just couldn't put my finger on it!"

"Well I hate to break up the family affair, but Dad loved his Grecian women and wine and absolutely hated the cold." Lya grabs the bottle of rum off the side table, pulls the cork off with her teeth and proceeds to take a long swig before cradling it in her lap and leaning back in her chair. "Case you couldn't figure it out, I'm a Scion of Dionysus," she grins.

"This whole Ragnarok thing... that's end of the world stuff, right? I used to know this guy in a band called Fenris and he was all into that kind of shit."

Hitoshi looks at the floor. "My Father is Hachiman." He says softly.

"I am the son of Tyr," Alex adds. "I learned of my ... divine parent after a helicopter I was in got shot down. The pilot had radioed for air support, and the response from someone - we never learned who - radioed back, 'Death to the Son of Tyr. I survived a crash, an ambush, and several days trekking over hostile territory."

"'Well. That was a bit more of a challenge than I'd planned for you," is what my father told me. If they don't formally recognize you, you're just another mortal.

"So what's this about my half-brother getting his hand cut off and buried under the Roget Building?"

Evie sighs and rubs a hand over her face. She feels terrible about springing this on them (except for Lya, who seems to be taking things in stride), but she honestly didn't know what else to do.

"I'm sorry," she finally says, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for kinda-sorta lying about things to get you here and then just dropping this on your heads." Her shoulders fall, "I didn't know what else to do. I didn't even know about scions and gods and all this shit until last night. I'm called to the university to look at the sarcophagus, expecting it to be another puzzle to solve. But instead of a professor, there's Heimdall waiting for me."

"I can't ignore this, though. I mean, all else aside, I can't ignore a mystery. Can't do it! I've tried. It eats at me. I have to figure this out...but I don't think that this is something that I can do alone," she says softly.

"Honestly, about all I know about Ragnarok is what I was able to find on the internet, last night. I'm not even sure this is about Ragnarok. Heimdall said that this was a battle about free will," Evie answers Lya's question.

"The simple version that I have read states that there will be a great battle between the gods that will result in many divine deaths. There will be natural disasters and the world will be flooded, but it will also be reborn new and fertile, with two human survivors."

Turning to Alex, she expounds upon what she knows, "I'm not sure _exactly_what happened to Officer Cardinelli. There were bullet holes in his blues that suggested panic fire. Whoever shot at him did not expect either a scion or the police to show up. He was killed, though, by a blow to the head. They also left his relics with him when they buried him."

She eyes Alex's ring for a second, considering whether to ask him about it. But, it's a forgone conclusion that she will. It's probably important.

Nodding towards his hand, she asks, "Your ring, Alex...what is it? Officer Cardinelli had one just like it."

"Oooo... I know this one...didn't Fenris bite off Tyr's hand?" Lya asks before taking another drink from the bottle. "Do you think there's a Scion of Fenris?" she asks with a gasp. "What would that even be _like?_"

"A Fenris inspired ender cult, maybe?" asks Hitochi.

"I've seen some crazy things on the streets; believe me, so I wouldn't be surprised. When people forget how to live all they have to look forward to is death." she takes another drink and leans over towards Evie with a wink. "That's why we really are friends you know... Hitoshi keeps me alive and I remind him how to live."

"Sleipnir," he says. "I call it Slipknot. It's named for the rope that Tyr uses to bind Fenris. Easier than hauling a great sword around town."

"A Scion of Fenris? Why not, Lya?" Alex makes mock fangs with his fingers. "If the gods assume mortal guise, why not Fenris? It might explain the apparent grudge someone has."

He takes several bites of food, washes it down with a bit of beer. "About that free will thing, the way it was explained to me is that mortals are free to live as they will, strive as they will, achieve works of art. Under the Frost Giants - or whomever the villain of your pantheon happens to be, such as the Titans for Lya's family - none of that will be allowed. It's about free wi-"

He breaks off in mid-sentence as another thought comes to mind.

"Who said it needed to be a cult, Hitoshi? Why not a street gang, one that just happens to have crossed all of our paths of late? Or maybe I'm just barking up the wrong tree," Alex laughs. "More beer. Better contemplation."

"Gangs...cults... both blind followers with charismatic leaders." Lya says as she leans forward and grabs a hushpuppy. "I was under their spell too until Hitoshi helped me, you know." She takes a bite and chews for a moment. "Wait... the Lobos... are you saying..."

"That the Lobos were at the diner for you?" finishes Hitoshi.

"It might be premature to say the _Lobos_ were there for anyone," Alex temporizes. "Even if the only patrons were Scions."

"Coincidence?" Evie scoffs. "I'm not buying it."

"Oh, I didn't mean to suggest it was entirely by chance," Alex adds. "Just that they're foot soldiers. Cannon fodder. Fall guys. Hitoshi and Lya have a history with them, the mortals won't have a reason to look deeper."

"You mean like 'lawyer killed during robbery gone bad,'" Hitoshi grimaces.

"Which is why I don't believe it's a serious effort. A probing move at best, to see how we react," Alex says.

Evie nods and finds herself chuckling. "Of course..._Lobos_...wolves. Fenris was.." she shakes her head and corrects herself, "..IS... a wolf, isn't he?"

"Well, they've misstepped. Saul said the security camera got a good shot of the robber, so we'll have no trouble having a reason to haul him in. It will give me a legitimate reason to do a bit more probing and maybe find some more information."

"Well, not me...but I bet I can put a bug in the ear of whoever is interrogating the man. It probably won't be my case, but that doesn't mean I can't find a way to get any information I need."

"Yes, Fenris is a wolf," Alex responds. " If the kid is a dupe, he's disposable, and no one will circle wagons around him. If he shows up with a fancy lawyer, he's a poor rich kid with the wrong friends, or someone else doesn't want him behind bars. I can't be involved, because I'm the victim. Assault with a deadly weapon, at the least," Alex considers. "I'll chat with a friend at the DA's office, same idea."

Hitoshi folds his hands in front of him, interlacing his fingers. "It would seem to me that this Fenris needs to be taken out, or at the least, his Scion. The lobos may then fight among themselves with the power vacuum created as they try to see who's man enough to be the head of the gang. Or hopefully, but less likely, they will just disband. The main police will be no help in dealing with the situation, in fact they will probably be a hindrance and are best kept out of they way. They will only get hurt or killed."

Evie nods, "I agree. If we do go that route, I don't want any mortals involved, at all. Just keep it to us. I'm willing to put myself in danger for this, but I'm not willing to risk anyone who doesn't know all the facts and dangers."

"But...we can use the police resources up until we figure out who the head is and decide how to handle the situation."

Lya sits back up in her chair and taps her rings against the bottle in her lap. "Gods don't exactly like to show themselves in public when they can get others (she gestures to the group) to do their work."

She takes a drink from the bottle and leans forward as she sets it on the table. "Our only piece in this game is you, unless there's more to the myth that might help us, Alex."

"Fenris is the son of Loki and a giantess," Alex recounts. "The gods bound him twice with chains, which he broke. They had the dwarves create Sleipnir, which looks like a flimsy piece of rope or ribbon, and dared Fenris to rend this as well.  
"Fenris would only do so if one of the gods put his hand in his mouth, and Tyr was the only one bold enough to do so. Of course, Fenris could not break Sleipnir, and he bit off Tyr's right hand."

"When Ragnarok is upon us, Fenris will escape his bonds. He is fated to kill Odin, the All-Father. Vidar will avenge Odin's death by tearing Fenris in half."

Alex chews on a piece of chicken and says nothing for a long moment. "It's possible that we - the children of the gods - are a kind of backup plan. The fate of our parents may already be ordained; ours, not so much. Killing Thomas and cutting off his hand isn't so much a warning as a way of saying the enemy will take the fight wherever they need to. And that our fates, in the end, will be no different."

"So far it's just been Scions of Tyr though, right?" asks Lya. "Couldn't it just be Fenris' kids acting out against their father's fate?" she grabs another hushpuppy. "Unless of course they think they've found a way to stop it for dear old Dad." Lya leans back in her chair and throws the hushpuppy in the air before it lands in her mouth.

"If Fenris was bound, there's no escaping that part, as far as I can tell," Alex frowns. "Which makes it about Fenris escaping, killing Odin, and being torn in half by Vidar. There's no advantage to killing Tyr or one of his children, except to stir the pot."

"Why kill Cardinelli and then ... do nothing? Granted, there's no shortage of crime, social unrest, political turmoil, and other problems in the world, but laying it all on Fenris and his ilk is like listening to conspiracy theorists on the radio."

"Was Cardinelli investigating anything when he disappeared that could give us a lead?" asks Lya as she leans on the table head in hand.

"Detective Cartwright, is there any way of finding that out? A log book of some kind?" Alex asks.

"Evie," she says after she finishes chewing a mouthful of chicken. "I think we're past formalities, at this point. Heck, you're practically family!"

"Yeah, there will definitely be records of anything that he was actively investigating. Of course, if it was scion business, anything he reported would be layered in half-truths or just have flat out omissions. That's what I'm going to have to officially do with this case. But, you are right. It's a starting point!"

She pushes her chair back and goes to the kitchen, grabbing a few more beers. She comes back and sets them in the middle of the table for everyone.

Popping the top off one, she looks to Lya and Hitoshi, "I don't know much about the music scene. Do you guys run into the Lobos often at night? Do they seem to frequent any of the clubs you play at, or anything?"

"This may not entirely be a Lobos matter, but I think they still need to be watched."

Hitoshi take a beer and takes a sip. This was a question he could answer. "Not that I as head of band security have noticed. If they have been there, they have not started anything."

"I'll look into the Roget Building, what we know about the owner," Alex offered. "I'd heard, once, that he made his fortune on a long-odds bet. I imagine that's not beyond the abilities of a Scion, or a divine sponsor."

"Otherwise, I can't think of much else to say except 'be careful.' Maybe it's coincidence, and maybe it isn't. The enemy is willing to kill."

"A gang like theirs, it wouldn't be too hard to find out where they like to hang out," Lya says as she pushes the bottle of rum to the side and reaches over for a beer. "All you've got to do is ask the bartender if they've been dealing with a bunch of obnoxious assholes lately. Between me and Hitoshi I'm sure we can come up with something... maybe start with the Soul Food Cafe and work backwards from there." She takes the beer and with her other hand whips out what at first seems like a switchblade handle until with a flurry it turns into a church key that she uses to pop off the bottle cap. "Liquor before beer, never fear," she says with a grin as she raises the bottle in a toast and proceeds to drink half of it down.

"If the store's security camera gives us an ID, I'm sure the DA's office will prosecute. Clemens needs to look good for re-election," Alex says. "I normally wouldn't recommend this, but, as the victim, if I bobble the ID, the kid could walk. And he and his pals would likely celebrate."

"Wouldn't that affect your professional reputation?" Hitoshi asked.

"It could. But if we're talking about the End of All Things, a 9-to-5 job isn't going to mean much," Alex admitted.

"You Vikings I swear..." Lya groans. "It's always 'death before dishonor' and constant fighting with you guys. You finally get a god with a sense of humor and what does he do? Bring the End of Days." She rolls her eyes and takes another long drink from her beer before leaning back in her chair again.

"Now the Greeks, they know how to let loose and party. You know how I found out I was a Scion? It wasn't because the Titans escaped Tartarus and wanted to wreak their wrath on the world.. no..." her chair falls forward and she sets the beer on the table a bit loudly as she hiccups. "No... it was because Hera..." she grabs the bottle and takes another swig of the beer before gesturing wildly with it, "Hera raises her daughters to be catty bitches who demand more attention than she does."

She stands up a bit shakily and puts one hand on the table before reaching up into her hair to pull it aside and show a ragged scar on her scalp. "We were playing one of our first shows when those bitches started the riot... turns out they didn't like all those men paying attention to us instead of them. I got hit by a broken bottle that nearly killed me, but thankfully I was found by Dad and he told me what was what."

She sets the now empty bottle of beer on the table and lets her hair fall back into place as she grabs the bottle of rum and sits back down with a thump. "That's the kind of shit that I can understand... gods acting just like us with all our petty problems...not..." she gestures to Alex and Evie, "..._this."_

"It seems we all have our war stories," Alex smiled. "I've always been a law-and-order sort, first as a JAG officer in the Army, then a lawyer in private practice. I don't _know_ anything else, Lya. Maybe, if there's something after all this, I'll try something different."

"It's funny, though. Heimdall calls it a battle for free will, and here we are wondering how much 'free will' we actually have in the matter."

Hitoshi frowns. Then quietly he slides a plate of food toward Lya. Just as quietly he himself starts eating. Her drunken rant was normal to him. Food was what she needed since he noticed she had yet to eat anything other than two hushpuppies.

"And you're used to not being bound by convention, I guess," Alex adds. "For me and Evie, it's different. I'm an officer of the court, she of the law. So when it comes to acting on impulse and unconventional strategy, you may be the expert."

"So. Let's say the game is fixed. Let's say that playing by the rules will get things explained away and rationalized so the mortals can go back to their illusion of safe little lives, celebrity scandals, corrupt politicians, and a world where there are gods, or titans, or scions. How do we take the fight to them? Go public?"

Hitoshi shakes his head. "No, the general public would not believe us. All that would accomplish is getting us locked away as mentally unstable individuals. You and Officer Cartwright would most certainly lose your jobs. Lya might be able to stay out due to people thinking it's some new gimmick for an album."

"As much as I think that would boost my CD sales... probably not a good idea," Lya chuckles as she picks at a piece of chicken now in front of her.

"Heimdall says it's all about free will, while you guys are talking about how the game is fixed. I'll bet my best bottle of wine that this isn't about the kids playing out their parent's roles... it's about the kids being _tired_ of it and wanting to change the story. Heck I want to change the story and I just heard it," she eats a piece of chicken and then makes a grab for the rum bottle that Hitoshi deftly scoots out of reach.

She sticks her tongue out at him before continuing. "They're killing off Scions of Tyr because he bound Fenris, right? We could always use you as bait and try and trap them in the act, Alex. Maybe call out the gang leader on tv with some new gangland taskforce or something and see if we can get him to show his face. If we caught him, he might be the one to actually know anything instead of his thugs."

She licks her fingers and grabs a napkin. "Either that or we focus on the rest of the story like the Slepnir and this Vidar person. I imagine any scions of Vidar would be a target, and if the Slepnir was on Earth it would be a hot commodity too. No idea where to start looking for them, though..."

Hitoshi caps the bottle of rum and keeps an eye on it so Lya can't get it again. "The problem I see is we really don't know enough about what is going on now, and what the story really is."

"Let it play out, then? If they really want me out of the way, they'll try again, and soon," Alex said. "Though I suspect learning I can take a bullet is going to pose a challenge."

"All else fails there's always faking your death and seeing if somebody sneaks into the morgue to try and cut off your hand," Lya chuckles to herself.

"Sure, just wait for the next round of flash floods, then tell them my car was found in a culvert," Alex laughed. "Seriously, though, the enemy needs it public and plausible. It wouldn't surprise me if someone was tailing me and hit the liquor store as an excuse. Poor Alex, got shot during a robbery. Perp gets arrested, goes to jail, case closed."

All through this, Evie has been sitting back, listening quietly as she eats. Finally, she speaks up, "When Heimdall and I were talking, he mentioned something about a vigil brand. It's like a power that can be used to track something or someone. I have no idea if I can actually do that but..maybe I can? I don't know. As Hemdall pointed out, my relics don't come with instruction manuals. Hell, I don't even know how to go about figuring out what I can do."

"You guys have been at this a lot longer than I have. How did you figure out your powers? Because, if I _can_ track people and things...that could be darned useful."

She takes a sip of drink and adds, "The one thing that I know I can do just sort of happened. I don't even know how I triggered it. When I was looking at the Cardinelli's body, I just sort of _knew_ all the crime scene statistics...whether the bullets used were jacketed, interpreting the bullet patterns, that sort of thing. Just..._pfwoop!_ there it was, all in my head."

"Me? I'm just naturally fun to be around," Lya laughs at Evie's question. "Here I thought people listened to me because of the message of my music... turned out they listened to me because of my genes. The rest of it..." she reaches down and grabs her walking stick to show to everyone, "came with instructions." She rubs her hand along the carved vinework of the staff and smiles as words in Greek shine briefly across the staff in various places before fading again.

"As to the next hit, it'll probably happen at Alex's work, my guess," Lya replies as she quickly snatches another beer from the table and makes a face at Hitoshi. "You hear about angry people shooting up courthouses all the time on the news these days." She opens up the bottle and takes a swig. "Do you think they can sense scions? I could always ask my girls to see if they'd be willing to watch out for you... that way they might not pick up on the fact that it's a trap and all." she takes another drink and winks. "You're a tough guy... I don't think they'd mind."

"If they can, it's a trick I haven't learned," Alex says. "I mean, it's not like that movie where the immortals get a Spidey-Sense tingle before trying to cut off each other's heads. Or at least I hope not."  
"So the real world works against them, as well. If mortals can explain it away, it's hard to say, 'Well, this guy has x ability, he must be a Scion.'"

"As to your question, Evie, it's been mostly trial and error for me," Alex says. "For example, I started getting this sixth sense about guilt and innocence. If I ask someone if they did something, and they lie, I can usually spot it. The question has to be fairly straightforward, though.  
"I knew I could heal some injuries - mostly cuts, there are probably a few times I recovered from sprains and didn't realize it. But the taking a bullet part was a surprise. I don't recommend it by way of trying to suss out what you can and cannot do.  
"I imagine there are a few war-related things in my drawer, what with Tyr being the God of War in our family, but I don't think - or I'm not aware of - having accessed them at all."

Evie nods, "Well, I'm sure that I'll have plenty of opportunity to figure things out."

"I think Lya's idea is a fairly good one, though. If anyone is a target, here, it's you, Alex," she says. "Having the ladies keep an eye on you wouldn't be a bad thing. But...uhh..." Here, Evie grins and clears her throat a little, "...can they be subtle? They seem a bit larger than life and we don't want it to be painfully obvious that he has an escort."

"Maybe if we explain the situation they can tone it down a bit. I'd never live it down if the fight to save the world happened and they weren't invited," Lya chuckles.

"Have one of them pose as a client? That, or we hit a show at a casino, get noticed in public? That might put Clemens off from offering me a job in the DA's Office, but too bad," Alex said. "I have to pick which world I'm going to live in, and if things really are coming to a boil ... then being the Son of Tyr is going to have to come first."

"Well Hitoshi's mom does work at that casino... we could probably set up a show there if you want to take that route. You think your mom would help, Hitoshi?"

Hitoshi gives Lya that "You have got to be kidding me." Look. Then he runs his hand down his face and sighs. "You really do like throwing me to the alligator pit Lya." He thinks for a minute. "Yea, She would. If not her, I have a contact guy I can talk to. It's a plan that can be set up. Just let me know when to place the call."

"Well, it doesn't have to be a casino where you have family on staff," Alex notes. "We just want to bait the hook, not give the enemy more targets."

Hitoshi sighs. "Much as I don't want to talk to my mother, it is actually the best idea. Security won't even blink at me and Lya going around in certain areas, and you two are duly appointed members of the state."

"Okay. Assuming the enemy feels the need to take me off the board, whether it's 'sending a message' or because I'm the Chosen One, I put myself in view," Alex says. "Outside gives them a lot more options. Inside, there's casino security, cameras everywhere, guests ... you have to worry about getting in, not looking out of place, making the hit, getting out.

"I clean up fairly well, but I drive a pretty mundane car. If we want to attract attention, I'm going to have to rent something flashier."

Lya chuckles then gets up from the table and opens the curtain a little to point down at the street. "You mean like that?" She nods to her friend. "Hitoshi's the guy to talk to about flashy cars. He might not want to give up his baby, but I'm sure he can help you hook up with something."

Alex looks to where Lya is pointing and gives a low whistle of appreciation.  
"Nice. But there is a risk that anything that gets loaned could get damaged, as well. Bullets, maybe a t-bone at an intersection," Alex warns. "If we're lucky, it'll be a drive-by or a mugging-gone-bad."

He smiles at Lya. "Though, I don't imagine they'll be too eager to tangle with the rest of your band."

"Oh no, sorry, Borrowing my Camaro is out of the question. I just bought that Last week, and still have five years of payments on it, and it isn't even a fifteen model." Hitoshi says. He slugs back more of his beer and clearly looks worried.

"I'm no help in that regard. I drive a Camry," Evie points out the window at the blue, older model car. It is completely unremarkable.

"I could call my dad, though. He _might_ have something you could borrow. But, it would hurt his soul to have one of his babies damaged," she chews her lower lip and thinks. "Maybe he hook you up with something that is essentially a junker but _looks_ flashy on the outside."

"Have any ideas, Hitoshi?" she asks.

"Like I said, a rental isn't completely out of the question. Plenty of rental companies catering to the wannabe-millionaire set,," Alex allows. "Unless the casino has a limousine to ferry VIPs around?"

"Well of course it does. Although I don't know if I can get it again after that one time I rented it for a band event for the Furies and it was trashed." Hitoshi grimaces. "They tend to party hard. Umm I guess I can see about getting it."

"It's Vegas, Hitoshi... I'm sure they weren't the first to trash the limousine and they certainly won't be the last," Lya scoffs as she lets the curtain fall and heads back to her chair. "Besides, that's what insurance is for, right?"

Hitoshi chuckles. "Oh the casino was fine with it. My mother however read me the riot act. Which you and I both know is horrid." He grins. "Yes I can get the limo."

"Okay, do we want to stage this for a particular time? Friday night? I was trying to think of a reason for a low-profile attorney to be hitting the casinos, but I did win a case the other day. Why not?" Alex smiles.

"Sounds like a plan to me," says Lya as she pulls out her phone and starts texting. "A sharp dressed guy like you in a casino is bound to have lovely ladies hanging on their arm." She chuckles to herself. "A fight on Friday and a show on Saturday? They're going to love it..."

"Let's say I draw fire as expected," Alex says. "If it's not a drive-by, do we want to ... acquire ... the shooter and ask a few of our own questions before the police do? Or just up the stakes and show them a bunch of street punks aren't going to do the trick?"

"Sounds good. I should be able to be around without any problems. Anyone who knows me knows my profession. I'm always poking my nose into something, so they'll most likely assume that I'm working a case."

"In the meantime, I'm going to be looking into whatever Cardinelli was investigating, if anything," Evie pauses and lets out a soft belch, food and drink finally catching up with her. "'Scuse me."

She turns to Alex, "I was planning on making sure that all of Cardinelli's relics are returned to his family along with his body. Is there any reason that you know of that I shouldn't do that?"

"I imagine we'd want to try and question them," answers Lya before finishing off the last of another beer and setting it on the table. "Otherwise we'd just be back where we started, right?" She picks up a cold chicken leg and starts gesturing with it as she's talking. "If they know anything, great... if they don't, then we've upped our chances of getting somebody higher up who _does_ to come out of the shadows. I'd say it's a win-win either way..." she takes a bite out of the chicken, "provided we can keep you alive and all, anyway." she swallows the bite and winks at Alex. "Thankfully that's not as hard as it sounds with you."

"They still took down Thomas, Lya. I'm not invulnerable," Alex cautions. "But I _will_ be wearing a vest this time, for real."

"Evie, as I understand it, a relic is valuable only to the scion to whom it was gifted ... or someone who steals it," Alex answers. "A mortal half-sibling wouldn't be at risk, and none of the purviews that would come with Thomas' things - assuming they're the same as the ones I have access to - will pose any overt danger. They're not going to be throwing lightning bolts or anything."

"We need to be careful about how questions are asked, too. Remember that anything we ask may well be brought up by the gang member once he's hauled in to the station and questioned about the incident," Evie cautions. "Unless, of course, you plan on letting anyone we question 'escape' and any other members who are caught are taken in."

Hitoshi grabs a couple more hush puppies and noms on them. "You know, some things are better left in the shadows. If one or more of the gang members gets a late night interrogation by some guy in a ski mask, then the cops won't know." He chews as swallows, washing the food down with a long swig of beer. "Besides, since when do gang members go to the cops for anything. "

"If we're doing this at the casino, the hit could well be public and messy. If we want shadowy, then we probably need another plan," Evie says.

"You're right in that if it happens in the darkness, a gang member isn't going to go to the police. But, if it the member is involved in a public arrest, then they will use anything they can to disparage the police and our procedures. Anything out of the ordinary could be brought up and possibly used."

Alex follows suit and snags another hush puppy. "I love the way Rick makes them. You get the corn flavor, not a mouthful of starch like other places."

"Then, as far as the plan goes, I'm the distraction. Lie in the street and look pathetic. Maybe have one of the ladies making a scene and looking helpless - even if that's not their thing. Show people what they expect, come up on them from a different direction."

"But if you're concerned about it being too public, Evie ... do you think they'd bite if I pulled a late night at the office and left the door open like I usually do in the afternoon?"

"I'm with Hitoshi there," adds Lya. "I know you guys are agents of the law and all... but I wasn't thinking about interrogating him in a jail cell either."

Lya ponders for a moment as she chews another piece of the chicken leg. "That ring that you guys both have, Alex... didn't you say it was called Slepnir too?" She points to his hand with her chicken leg. "What if those rings have an ability that you guys don't know about and our mysterious enemy does?" She holds up her other hand and wiggles her fingers. "You know... like what happens if you get a bunch of them together? Maybe you scions of Tyr were all set up as guardians of a piece of the rope or something?"

Hitoshi looks at her with a raised brow.

"What... you all want me to be the one who thinks out of the box, right? I say we kick the box to the curb."

"Oh, I know that you weren't thinking about interrogating him after the arrest. I was saying that if we questioned him beforehand and then turned him over to the police, that could cause problems."

"Well as long as it's not the police doing the questioning, it's like Hitoshi said.. I doubt very much they're going to go running to the cops to file a complaint, you know? Between Hitoshi and the girls, I'm sure they could get it out of them. We just need the time to do our thing before the cops conveniently show up as clean up crew."

"Evidence obtained in an illegal interrogation would be thrown out," Alex explained. "But we wouldn't be asking about the attack or the earlier shooting, exactly."

He glances at his ring. "Lya, that's a neat theory, but Thomas has been buried under the Roget Building for decades, and they didn't take his ring, and they must have searched him. Maybe one ring is all that's needed."

"Speaking of the Roget Building... what's with that place and that coffin, anyway?" It's not like it was an easy ditch to throw a body in... somebody would've had to purposely break in there, find the sarcophagus, lift that heavy ass lid and place him in there." Lya tosses the now cleaned chicken leg onto her plate with a clatter. "There has to be a better reason than 'a good hiding place' if they went into _that_ much effort." She picks up another hushpuppy from the plate. "Maybe if we dug into the building records to find out who built it? It's an odd construction, right? Maybe the architect had some weird occult history or something that could give us a lead."

"That, or whoever killed Thomas put him in the sarcophagus and erected the building overtop," Alex frowned. "I don't know if there would be any benefit to it, like Superman-can't-see-through-lead. And it might not even have anything to do with current events, though I won't put any money down on _that_."

He pulls out a notebook and scribbles several items down. "So. The builder. Roget. Any possible sponsor. Occult connections. Got it."

Hitoshi suddenly looks disturbed. "I just thought of something I really didn't need to think of. My father told me about Titanspwan all over the world. Fenris isn't the only one that could be waking up and starting stuff. Some of the Japanese Titanspawn make Fenris look like someone's puppy."

"Well we'll just have to tell them our dance card is full at the moment if they happen to come calling," Lya jokes. "I'll get with the girls and go over the plan with them so we're all on the same page. Maybe if I'm lucky I can put some feelers out on the street and see if I hear anything about the Lobos too."

"Okay, Let me recap to make sure that I'm following the plan," Evie says.

"Alex will check into the Roget Building's history. I will check into what Cardinelli was doing when he disappeared. Lya and Hitoshi will keep an eye on the streets."

"Then, Friday night, we all show up to the casino. Alex will be all flashy and public, but will be escorted by the band. If anything goes down, the band and I will move to protect Alex and any civilians who get in the way. Lya and Hitoshi will take care of grabbing a shooter and asking real nice about what they think they are doing."

"Right?"

"It's like a high school prom, Lya. Everyone goes, right?" Alex laughed. "Wait. I didn't go to mine."

"Are the Furies performing or enjoying a night out? I don't exactly fit the punk image," Alex frowns.

"Anyway, I can head back to the office and dive into this research." He dug into his pocket and handed out his business card. "Anything weird goes down, call me. Learned the 'instant wake-up' trick in the Army."

"Sounds like a plan to me, Evie," says Lya as she stands up and picks up her long coat from the couch to put it on. "Much obliged for the drinks and good food, and of course the enlightening conversation."

She checks her pockets and smiles when she pulls out a purple guitar pick with their band's name on the back. "For your brother," she winks as she tosses it on the table and deftly slips one of the unopened beers left on the table into her coat pocket.

"As much as I'm glad I'm not you right now Alex, I swear the Furies and I will do our damnedest to keep you alive," Lya says as she shakes hands with the lawyer.

Evie takes Alex's card and nods. She also picks up Lya's pick with a laugh and moves it to a small bowl on the kitchen counter where she knows it will not get lost, "I think I may just put all of this together as an early birthday present for him. He's going to be beside himself!"

There is a small stack of her own business cards near the front door. She hands one to each of them, even though she knows that Alex already has her information. Business cards are convenient...and have the added benefit of the reader not having to interpret Evie's chicken scratch handwriting.

"Thank you guys for coming. I really appreciate all of your help on this," she shakes everyone's hands as they prepare to leave. "I'll let you know what I find out about Cardinelli."

"If the Mudjehadeen couldn't take me out before I knew I was a Scion, I'm not too worried about a bunch of two-bit punks," Alex says. "Hmm. I wonder what they'd do if I charged at them while carrying my sword ...?"

Evie snerks and says, "Ever seen _The Princess Bride?_ You know the scene where Indigo finally confronts the Six-Fingered Man for the first time? Yeah...that's what I see happening."

"Well it's Vegas... it won't be the first time somebody has done that I'm sure," Lya chuckles. "Afraid I don't have a card as Dad's the one usually doing the PR..." she grabs her Sharpie out of her pocket and flips over their cards to write her cell number on it for both Evie and Alex, "But this is a good way to get a hold of me." She gives a lazy salute and a smile. "Until Friday, guys."

Hitoshi stands and bows. "I too must be going. I am Lya's ride. I wish you a good evening. "


	4. A Plan Forms

"Okay, Armand Roget, just who the hell are you?" Alex asked himself. Dinner at Evie Cartwright's had ended with the decision to offer the _Manada de Lobos_ a target - himself - on the premise that it was a little _too_ convenient for a member of that gang to be attempting the armed robbery of a liquor store where Alex happened to be shopping.

The internet yielded its usual torrent of information. Apparently, Roget was somewhat of a celebrity in the day - the winner of a long-odds bet, Roget had taken his millions and invested them for long-term returns, as well as in civic efforts. He'd not only put up the namesake building under which Thomas Cardinelli had been buried, but contributed to political efforts. Whether that was out of a genuine sense of giving back to the community or buying a politician or three was debatable.

The construction company had been an older, family-run concern that had broken up in the 1990's, the sons had set their eyes on something other than pouring foundations and walking steel. If the grandfather or father had been involved with hastening Ragnarok, that information would be buried or lost. Call it a dead end for the moment, though Max Bayer over at the City Planning Commission should have blueprints for the Roget Building - a requirement for all commercial buildings after 9/11.

Back to Roget. He'd been big on bankrolling commercial development. Rumored to have ties to the Mafia, but that was said of most people with influence at City Hall. The property had been an office building by design, but more of a museum (mausoleum?) by the time of Roget's death. No heirs on record. No trust for the estate. Could an auction house have sold things off without realizing their significance, or even still have 'junk' in their warehouse and not know it? Worth checking on.

Alex glanced at the menubar clock. 3AM, and he wasn't tired in the least bit. It was convenient when one was self-employed and could set their own hours, but he still tried to keep a semblance of normal hours. Just one more search. Cardinelli's family. His mortal family. There. Parents deceased. A younger brother and sister - although that was relative, as they'd both be pushing 80. Brother in a senior community, sister living at home. He'd call them later in the morning. He shut everything down and stretched out on the couch. He could grab a shower at the gym in the morning ...

Alex woke to a ringing phone. "North."

"Mr. North, this is Officer Anderson," Saul said. "I'm just checking up on you as a courtesy. You're doing okay?"

"A little stiff," Alex allowed. "No bruising, no problems breathing. Lucky for me, I guess."

"Prepared is better than lucky," Saul advises. "Even street punks are packing serious heat."

"I think we've both heard enough stories on that count," Alex said. "I appreciate the call, Officer Anderson."

"How was your dinner date?"

"Interesting."

"No luck, eh?"

"Wasn't that kind of date."

Saul chuckled. North wasn't one of the boys-in-blue, but he was part of the law enforcement community, and subject to a measure of coarse humor. "Maybe next  
time you'll get lucky."

Alex winced. Anderson clearly didn't know his 'date' was Evie Cartwright. And that 'next time' was going to be with Lya's bandmates.  
"Hope springs eternal," he said, rolling his eyes.

Regardless of his plans, Alex needed to go home and get a change of clothes. In the end, he wound up taking a cab to get there, as someone had spiked two of his tires. He hadn't thought holding the one gang member back would be such a grave offense to the gang's image, but that didn't preclude prompting from a scion on the other side.

His home hadn't been spared, either. It was in a nice neighborhood, but someone had slipped a dead rat into his mailbox. Lovely. At least there wasn't a scrawled note reading, 'Death to the Son of Tyr' pinned to it.

The garbage bag of wine-stained clothes from the other night couldn't go into the wash just yet. His rumpled suit would go to the dry cleaners. Since he hadn't gone to the gym, a quick shower was in order. He couldn't help but examine where he'd been shot. There wasn't even a bruise to show he'd been injured at all. He scraped the stubble off his chin, brushed his teeth, the usual ablutions. He settled on a tuxedo, but with an aviator's leather jacket instead of the formal one. His Bates dress uniform shoes would do nicely. Wraparound shades. His West Point ring. Alex considered whether or not to take a sidearm; he held a concealed-carry license, after all. No, best to avoid any suggestion that he was expecting a fight ...

* * *

After the meeting at Officer Cartwright's place, and after dropping Lya off at her place, Hitoshi makes some calls once he's home. His housemate Matt is there with his boyfriend. They both wave. Hitoshi nods back. He had no problem with Matt and Kyle. they stuck to themselves, and Matt was always on time with his rent check.

The first one is to his Mother.

"Umm hey mom." He says a bit meekly. "Yes, yes I DO need a favor. Yes, I do remember the earlier conversation last night. yes.. yes. Look, all I am saying is give me a weeks notice before you go making plans. I am not against having dinner with you, I just need to know a week in advance." Hitoshi sighs and listens as his mother once again chews him out. "Fine mom, I'll have dinner with you and that nice lady you found. Yes, next Wednesday works for me... Yes mom, yes mom... Mom, will you be quiet for one moment?!" Hitoshi looses it and roars at his mom. Inside he regrets it.

"Look mom, this is a business call. Do you still need a gig for that Friday show next week? Yes, I AM talking about the Furies. Look, you were the one wanting to draw in a younger crowd to the casino. Go online and look at how popular Punk rock is right now with the eighteen to twenty seven group. Go ahead, I'll wait."

Hitoshi waits and rolls his eyes. "So that will be the Friday Jam next week. Yes mom. Oh, umm By the way, can we use the Limo again?" He holds the phone away from his head suddenly as his mom yet again reads him the riot act. "Mom, The Furies are NOT the first ones to have trashed the Limo, and you know it. Stop trying to guilt trip me, it won't work. Can we get the Limo or not? Thank you. Now, I must go, I love you, Bye."

He closes the phone and sighs. Matt walsk over. "Whats wrong Toshi?"

"Setting up a gig at the Casino for the band. Having to deal with mom. It all sucks." He wasn't about to say _"Oh yea, and the world may actually be ending."_

Matt frowns and walks over to the Minibar. "So, Rum and Coke, or Mojito?"

Hitoshi thinks for a moment. "You know what, hit me with the Mojito."

It's well after you retire for the night. Your dreams are a bit unusual, given recent events, but there's nothing prophetic or overtly troubling about them.

A loud **crunch** comes from outside. There's the sound of a revving engine, tires spinning as they search for traction, then a squeal as someone peels out and roars away down the street.

Matt is in the hallway, holding a baseball bat and not looking all that threatening. "What the hell, Hitoshi?"

"Stay back," you warn. You have your sword to hand, and carefully glance out from the edge of the window.

Someone drove onto the front lawn, turned a couple of donuts, then drove off. The mailbox post is knocked over, and the lawn is a mess.

Hitoshi frowns then head into his room and starts pulling on clothes, if they knew where he lived then they could easily find Lya .

"Matt, I won't lie to you. The last night Lya and I ran across the lobos at the diner downtown. They were looking to start shit. Luckily a cop was there and the band showed up. I think we stopped a robbery or a shakedown. However, they said they'd get payback."

He walk over to the mirror and puts a magnetic key against a hidden latch in the frame. Sliding the mirror to the side to reveal a safe he palms the lock and opens it to reveal stacks of money, passports, and other keep sakes. Reaching inside he pulls out 500 dollars.

"I want you and Kyle to take that vacation you've been saving up for. It's on me, but you need to leave tonight." He pulls out his cell phone and dials Lya as he closes the safe and slides the mirror back. They lock with a "click"

"Come on Lya, pick up." Glancing over he waves the small stack of bills at Matt.

Hitoshi collects a Gym bag and throws a few sets of clothes into it. "We will be. I'll give Lya your regards. I'm headed over there now just to make sure she will be okay. The band can'r handle" He smiles and heads into the garage. He watches the door as it opens to make sure it's clear then peels out in the Camaro taking the long way around and cutting down side streets in case the Lobos were tailing him.

* * *

"You're kidding me... real End of Days shit?" exclaims Toxic as she grabs a beer off the table of their booth in the back of The Dive. The sounds of driving bass and mosh pits echo around them as Lya does her best to explain what she learned after dinner with the other Scions.

"Effing Norse, always ruining everything with their utter lack of humor," moans Phoebe as she leans back in the booth and puts her boots up on the table. "I appreciate a good fight just as much as they do, but come on!"

"Tell me about it," agrees Lya as she lays her head in Orithia's lap and dangles her feet off the edge of the seat. "Such a buzzkill for the planet, right?"

"Look on the bright side, guys," Orithia adds as she strokes Lya's hair. "At least it's going to be one hell of a fight, right? When's the last time we were really challenged?"

"She's got a point," agrees Klepto before chugging a beer and setting it on the table with a burp. "So we're going to guard this Alex guy in the hopes that we can lure the Lobos out again for another try at him? I don't like leaving you unguarded, Lya, and I'm sure your dad wouldn't like it either. What if one of those creeps tries something while we're busy with him?"

"Let them try," snarls Toxic as she grips the edge of the table tight. "I still owe that asshole who slapped my ass and I'd be more than happy to take it out on his entire gang. I'll stay with Lya while you guys guard Alex. We wouldn't want to ruin things with one of them recognizing me, anyway."

"Promise me you guys won't destroy the place... or the limo," begs Lya as she blindly grabs for another beer off the table. "I'm still getting shit from Hitoshi because of last time, you know."

"Hey that was just us having fun...this is going to be business," Phoebe replies. "If things get damaged... is it really important when you consider the bigger picture of saving the world?"

"Oh Gods..." Lya moans.

"Alex is a little clean-cut, isn't he?" laughs Klepto. "He's gonna stick out like a sore thumb, unless you're going to ask that we dress like women who trade away their dignity by catering to men who don't see further than dress size and bust measurement."

"Well we don't want to change his look too much or else the assassins won't even recognize him," Lya warns. "We don't want you guys to be so uncomfortable that you stand out too much either though," she groans before taking a gulp from her beer.

"Wait... what if you guys dressed like high rollers at the casino instead of...you know... " she waves her beer at Klepto, "what you said. Then you'd all be equals who just want to gamble and party, right?"

"Full dress leather?" Phoebe grins. "I can do that."

"Just remember to not _look_ like you're ready to kick someone's ass, ok? They're never going to try for this guy if we're too consp...conspic...(burp)...obvious."

Lya's pocket suddenly begins to vibrate and she gestures to Toxic to grab her hand and help her sit up while she fumbles with her cell phone. "God damn headrush..." she mutters before sliding open her phone on the third ring.

"What's up, Hitoshi? Figured a party animal like yourself would be asleep by now." Klepto snorts as Lya grins and waves at her to be quiet so she can hear. "Wait, slow down... what happened with the car?"

"Some asshole destroyed our yard and our mailbox with a car tonight," warns Hitoshi. "If they know where I live, then they probably know where you live too. You need to be careful, Lya."

"Good thing I'm not home then," she chuckled. "I'm surrounded by four of the best bodyguards a mortal could wish for, Hitoshi... if those asshole Lobos want to try anything we'll be ready."

Toxic stiffens at Lya's words and slams her fist on the table. "Damn straight we'll be ready for them."

"You know what they say," Orithia smiles coldly. "If you're going to pull on a tiger's tail, you'd better have a plan for dealing with the teeth."

"In the meantime... " Lya starts as she chews her lip in thought, "maybe I should check out my apartment and make sure they didn't sack the place... maybe throw together a Go Bag so I can stay away until things get settled." She looks to Orithia and Toxic. "You girls up for coming upstairs with me to check it out? The rest of you keep an eye out down here in case they come in and try and start something."

"No one is that stupid. At least I hope not. An attack on a daughter of Dionysus in what is pretty much a modern-day temple," Phoebe frowns. "Oh, wait. I've actually seen some heroes of old who _were_ that stupid."

"You mean Jerk-ules?" Toxic's eyes flash with mock innocence.

"More like _Durrr_ -cules," Phoebe sneered. "Not the brightest of lamps. Nice ass, though."

The apartment is safe, though faint scratches around the deadbolt and doorknob suggest that someone may have picked (or tried to) the lock. Most likely the latter, as the door and bolt are still securely closed.

Both Orithia and Toxic produce collapsible batons and shake them open with a metallic _ch-chak._

Lya unlock the door and Toxic is first through...

"Oh my Goddess, what did they do to this place!" Toxic exclaims, causing Lya to rush through the door in a panic to see her apartment just as she left it.

"Very funny...very funny..." Lya mumbles as she stomps past the two snickering Amazons to grab her backpack from under her couch.

"I'm going to throw a bag together just in case... then if the coast is clear I've got to get some rest before everything hits the fan tonight." She grabs some clothes off the back of the couch, sniffs them, then shrugs before stuffing them in the bag along with a pack of cigarettes, some toiletries, some of their CDs, a few band photographs, and 3 bottles of liquor. "You guys feel free to make yourselves at home if you want. There's beer in the fridge and I've got some new games on the PS3," Lya calls out to the others.

"God of War? Really, Lya?" Orithia replies with a laugh as she picks up one of the cases off of the coffee table. "What would your father think?"

"That irony is a wonderful thing..." she walks back into the living room and sets a now full backpack down by the couch. "Especially when you're not involved." Lya flops down on the couch with a yawn before she lies down with her feet on Orithia's lap.

"Come on, Orithia... I won't tell if you won't," laughs Toxic as she walks out of the kitchen with two beers. "We can switch off between levels."

"Okay...okay...let me just text the others and let them know we're clear. " Orithia caves.

"Dibs on Dur-cules!" exclaims Toxic.

* * *

About 30 minutes later Hitoshi pulls up. Getting out of his car he grabs the gym bag, masamune, and the band's favorite take out which. Figuring on staying up all night also meant figuring out that he and whoever was up would get hungry. Shaking out his keys, he unlocked the back door to the dive bar and stepped inside pulling it quickly closed behind him and throwing the latch closed. The scrape of a heel on the floor behind him let him know someone was there. "Just me." He says.

A snort issues from the dimness. "I knew it was you, only one person in this town wears that japanese perfume you call cologne. "

Hitoshi chuckles and shrugs before handing off the bag of food. "Brought you ladies something. Where's Lya?" He asks moving into the bar proper.

"She passed out upstairs with Toxic and Orithia once everything checked out," Phoebe answers before taking a big sniff from the bag. "Mmmn...Thai food. Klepto and I were going to wait till the bar closed so we can secure the area before we head up, so save some for us, kay?" She hands the bag back to Hitoshi. "You wouldn't want us grumpy after a hard day's work, right?" she winks.

Hitoshi grins. "No, I really don't want that. I'd much rather you ladies be mad at the Lobos. I don't think I can take on all of you, and I don't want to even try... unless it's at Poker." He pulls a deck of cards out of an inside pocket and fans them out with a flourish. He tilts his head. "Go on, the food will still be here. I won't start eating without you."

"You're just lucky she's the scion of Dionysus and not Hermes," Phoebe jokes as she waves over her shoulder and walks back into the bar.

Hitoshi chuckles. "And I thank my Lucky stars every damn night." He heads into the bar and sets the food down. "Hey Michelle, Crack me a cold one would you? Light please. I'm going to head up and check on Lya. Be right back down." He says recognizing tonight's bartender. He slides her a 20$ and takes the steps to Lya's apartment two at a time. He slides his key into the lock and opens the door quietly. "Hey, It's Hitoshi, I'm coming in." He says softly. He closes the door behind him and locks it again before stepping into the Living room.

"Good thing too, or I'd have had your kidneys," whispers Toxic from behind Hitoshi as she retracts her baton. "You brought food though... so I'll forgive you... this time." She grabs the paper bag with her other hand and heads back into the kitchen. "It's ok, Orithia," she says to the blonde Amazon crouched protectively in front of Lya as she sleeps fitfully on the couch.

"Geesh, Hitoshi... give somebody a chance to answer the door before you come in," warns Orithia as she puts her baton away. "Especially after putting us on alert with that phone call, and all."

Hitoshi Snorts. "I knew you were back there the minute I closed the door, Toxic. Its why I said something in the first place." He leans against the wall and takes his shoes off, placing them by the door before following Toxic into the kitchen.

"Also, I'm the only other person to have a key. That should tell you enough who it was, but whatever, I could have just knocked, but I was afraid I'd wake her up." He shrugs. "Anyways I can to check on sleeping beauty there and bring you gals some food for the long haul."

He talks softly as he walks and pauses by the couch to gently pull a light blanket over Lya as she sleeps before stepping into the kitchen proper. "Klepto and Pheobe are closing up downstairs, I got a beer waiting on me downstairs, and a deck of cards, and we have food. I'm in this for the night."

"Could you guys get along long enough for me to sleep?" mutters Lya as she rolls over and sits up with a rub of her eyes. "Hey Hitoshi..." she mumbles as she runs her fingers through her hair. "...is that Thai food?"

An hour later the bar has closed and Lya, Hitoshi and the Furies are all sitting around the coffee table eating out of take-out boxes. "All right... so everybody but Toxic rides with Alex as he enters the casino. Say the attempted hit happens and they catch the guy... what then? We're wanting to interrogate the guy, right?"

"I could always question him with my fists in the back alley," offers Klepto before grabbing a box of pad thai.

"As much as I prefer simplicity, that might leave us a little too out in the open," warns Lya. "I'm thinking that you guys take him through the back alley and we take him in the back door of the casino where we question him in the security station of the casino. What do you think, Hitoshi? Think with a little buttering up they'd let us borrow their room for a bit? That way we can also get him out of the cops way when they come."

Hitoshi looks up with a mouthful of Pad Thai halfway in his mouth. He swallows and leans back against the kitchen counter.

"Umm yea, no, we don't even have to ask. Remember the steam and maintenance tunnels we used to sneak through as teens? Yea well I have a key to them that I managed to snag. I know a room way back down one of the tunnels where nobody goes. Door's thick enough to muffle sound, and the noise from the machine room down the hall will cover any sound the guy makes."

He shoves more Pad Thai into his mouth suddenly ravenous, chewing three times before swallowing.

"My question is do any of you gals know how to do proper torture? Beating the guy up is not the way to go. That just breaks the body. Torture is about breaking the mind while leaving the body relatively intact. Repeatedly punching the guy isn't going to work for long."

He Drains his beer in one go and pulls another one from a small cooler he had gotten from his car and pops it open with the nearby churchkey as he tilts his head back and forth as if debating something. Suddenly he runs a hand through his hair and sucks in a breath. Then he starts talking faster, like he just wants to get it all out.

"Look, if you can get the guy down to the room, I can take care of the rest, but no questions asked. This shit is gonna be scary. Mind you I don't want to do it, but hey we all gotta bite the bullet sometime and do things we don't like."

He looks at Lya and the rest of the Furies waiting for their answer.

"What about letting someone do something that they _do_ like?" asks Klepto with a smirk as she cracks her knuckles.

Lya chuckles. "I know you're eager, Klepto... but if Hitoshi thinks his idea will work, we'll give it a shot. All else fails we can still let you guys at him." She turns to Hitoshi. "I'm not going to let you go in there alone, though. Besides... I always wanted to play the Good Cop."

Hitoshi shrugs. "You want to be good cop, I'm okay with that." He takes a swig of his beer. "I agree that the girls should be back up. However, don't beat him up so much that he dies from internal injury or shock. I've seen the results of what you gals can do when you don't hold back. Hospitalization is great, murder is not." He grins and hold out his beer. "But beer sure to have fun whatever happens. "

"We'll make sure he can still talk, Hitoshi, don't worry," replies Phoebe.

"I miss the old days..." laments Toxic as she grabs a beer. "Things were much simpler back then."

"But much more exciting now, right?" Lya winks and grabs her own beer and holds it up for a toast. "Here's to good friends and exciting times!"


	5. The Sons of Tyr

The next morning, Evie arrives at work bright and early, far earlier than she actually needs to be there. But, she's eager to get started. The whole affair is overwhelming, terrifying...and exciting. Oh, she's had plenty of mysteries to work on as a detective over the years, but nothing like this. Nothing that had so much hinging upon success. She feels the burden of her role acutely, but she is not bothered by it. Instead, it fuels her.

She sits down at her computer and starts searching the police records. Unfortunately, whether something that old has been scanned into the system is hit or miss. Backlogging old reports into the data system is something that gets done, but it's generally a job that sits on the back burner and gets done in between newer assignments. As it turns out, the records from the year of Cardinelli's disappearance have not yet been entered. So, that means a trip down to the archives.

Just as she is standing up from her chair, she hears a familiar voice, "Hey, nerd! Whatcha doing?"

Saul is standing there, smiling and holding out an extra cup of coffee to her. Grinning, she accepts it and sips, "Getting ready to head down to the archives. What's up for you, today?"

"Eh, the usual. I get to patrol downtown, today. Fun, fun!" he falls into step beside her as they make their way to the basement where all the old records are kept. "Did you get my text about Alex?"

"Yeah, I did. Damn lucky the man forgot to take off his vest before leaving the office. It would've been a shame to lose him," Evie says as she holds a door open for Saul.

"Crazy stuff. He seemed okay. I'll probably swing by his office before I leave, just to make sure, though," he says. As the two of them descend down a set of stairs, Saul cheerfully continues, "So, guess who actually has Saturday night off?"

"Get out of here! How many chickens did you have to sacrifice to manage that?"

"Twelve. Plus a goat. I think it was the goat that pushed me over," he grins. "So, you**do** owe me a beer. I was thinking that, instead of that, we could go see a movie. You want to go see Turtles?"

"I'd love to but, I have so much work..." Evie begins, shaking her head.

As they reach the bottom of the stairs, Saul gently grabs her head. One hand cups the back of her noggin while the other covers her mouth. "Yes, Saul, I would love to stop working for one night and go to a movie!" he says in a silly falsetto, all the while nodding her head for her.

She licks his palm.

"Ewwww!" he jerks his hand away and wipes it on his shirt. Throwing her a crooked grin, Saul says, "You know, in some cultures, that would mean that we are married."

The detective snerks once, then begins to chortle, then falls into a full-fledged laugh. She and Saul have known each other for well over a decade, and it shows. They begin walking, again, towards the stacks.

"Come on," Saul says, poking his friend in the shoulder. "In all seriousness, you work too hard. Take a night off. Come to the movies with me."

"Okay, look...I can't promise anything. But, yeah. Tentatively. If nothing comes up," she stops in front of the proper section for the records she needs and smiles at Saul.

"Good enough!" Saul claps her on the shoulder before glancing at his watch. "It's time for me to get on the road. Good luck, Evie."

"Be safe out there!" she waves good-bye to him as he turns to leave. She then turns her attention to the records. "So, Officer Cardinelli...let's see what you were doing..."

It takes nearly an hour (and wading through dusty file boxes) to find the relevant records. There it is. Badge 5849, Cardinelli, Officer Thomas. The desk sergeant had made an entry about flash flood warnings, and several cars reported in, establishing a safety cordon. Cardinelli was listed as driving south on I-15, checking for stranded motorists. Lost in a flash flood; it all made sense.

But it felt wrong. On an impulse, Evie looked for the report that had to be there, an inquiry into the death/disappearance of an officer. They'd found his car, the driver's side door torn off, and half-buried in mud in a culvert.

There. A routine inspection of the patrol car, not very different than any accident report. Cracked windshield, compressed front bumper, dented fender, crumpled hood. Driver's side door missing. Inventory of vehicle, everything accounted for, including the shotgun in the between-seat bracket.

Photos of the damage, and the same instinctive grasp of the situation welled up within her. It was worse than she'd initially thought. Someone (a very large someone, at that) had basically taken a hit from the patrol car, smashed the hood, and knocked it off the road. The door had been torn off. Cardinelli had emerged, far from helpless, and been shot for his efforts. When that didn't stop him, he had been felled by the blow to his head.

Not by a pipe, crowbar, or baseball bat, but a warhammer. Evie could see how the pointed end of such a weapon could be mistaken for the business end of a prybar. Medieval weapons simply weren't first on the list when cause-of-death was being determined. There had been no body, so no autopsy - a missing, presumed dead and a nameplate added to the memorial wall. The names and addresses of his relatives, which would be woefully out of date - it was unlikely Cardinelli's parents were alive, for example, but any sibilings might still be accessible ...

Evie jots down the information for any relatives that may still be alive. She carefully replaces all of the files to their nooks, knocks the dust off of herself and heads back to her desk. She then begins the task of tracking them down to see where they may be.

_Time for some interviews,_ she thinks as she quickly types searches into her computer.

SEARCH PARAMETERS  
Cardinelli, Officer Thomas, next-of-kin

SEARCHING ...  
Father, Franklin James Cardinelli, (1912 - 1997)  
Mother, Theresa Dell'Osso Cardinelli (1914 - 1999)  
Brother, Nicholas Anthony Cardinelli (b.1932)  
Sister, Stephanie Marie Newell (b. 1934)

Evie scribbled down the addresses. The brother's address was an assisted-living facility; the sister's address, a home across town.

Grabbing her car keys with one hand, she shuts down her computer with the other. As she stands, she finishes off the last dredges of the coffee that Saul had given her. It's now cold, bitter and pretty darned disgusting. She pulls a face and tosses the cup in the trash on her way out.

As she walks to her car, she remembers that she has early birthday presents for Ian, courtesy of Lya. She pulls out her phone and calls, but it is directed to his voicemail. No doubt he's in class, at the moment.

"Hey, Ian. It's me. Drop by my apartment tonight, if you can. I got something for you," she smiles as she leaves her brief message. There is a little skip in her step as she walks. The thought of him being so surprised and happy makes her happy, as well.

Plopping into her old Camry, she rolls down the windows and starts her journey to Stephanie Newell's home. Her plan is to talk to both siblings, but she can hit the assisted living facility on her way back to either HQ or her own home, depending on how long all of this takes.

The Newell home is a pleasant ranch-house design, basking in the mid-morning sun, though you can hear the AC unit whirring away. The front door is open, with a glass storm door and screen inset allowing you a view inside the home.

An older man waves dismissively at the television. "Lower, you nincompoop! Lower!" A harsh buzz and a murmur of audience disappointment lets you know he's watching _The Price is Right_ or another game show. "Hmph! Told you!" he laughs. He sees Evie standing at the door. "Help you, Miss?"

"Good morning, sir. I'm Detective Evelyn Cartwright with the Las Vegas Police Department. I was wondering if I might have a word with Mrs. Newell," Evie smiles as she speaks and makes sure that her stance is open, relaxed and non-threatening. You never know how people are going to react to a police officer showing up on their doorstep, and she wants to make it clear that she's not there to make any trouble. As the man approaches the door, she holds up her badge for him to see."This is in regard to her brother, Thomas Cardinelli."

"Tommy? He was a good troop. If you finally found his body, God rest his soul, I'm not sure Stephanie needs to see it," Newell says quietly. "Please, Detective. Come in. You want some ice water? Iced tea?"

Hearing voices, Stephanie Newell comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She is slender and moves gracefully. Despite silver hair and a fan of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her age does not appear to lay heavily upon her.

"Michael? We have a visitor?" she smiles. "I'm afraid we're not interested in a reverse mortgage."

"Dear, this is Detective Cartwright. She wanted to talk to you about Tommy."

"I see," she says quietly. She folds the towel, briefly returning to the kitchen to set it aside, then composes herself and takes a seat at the dining room table. "Please, Detective, have a seat. Tell me what I can do for you."

"Thank you, sir. A bit of tea would be lovely. It was a dusty drive over," she smiles in thanks as she takes a seat at the dining room table.

Evie turns her eyes to Mrs. Newell. This part is never easy. Granted, most of the the cases that she works on are terribly old and the people she talks to have long ago come to terms with the fact that their loved one is gone. However, it can often stir up old emotions, reopening old wounds.

Softly, she begins, "Ma'am, we found Thomas' body a couple of days ago. Back when he disappeared, it was assumed that he was caught in the flood and lost. However, there is evidence that that may not have been the case. There were bullet holes in his blues."

She pauses as Mr. Newell sets down a cold glass of tea in front of her, "Thank you, sir." She takes a sip and continues.

"I'm investigating to see if I can figure out what really happened. Unfortunately, the case is so old that there's not much in the way of physical evidence, anymore. So, I was wondering if you could tell me about Thomas. Do you remember what he was working on, at the time? Did he ever mention any troubles that seemed out of the ordinary?"

"You're saying he was _shot_?" Stephanie stifles a gasp. "Why would anyone want to do that to Tommy?"  
Her brow furrows as she combs through her memory for the answers to your questions.

"My brother took his job seriously. Mom and Dad were so proud of him. Out of the ordinary ..." she muses. "Just the one time, really. He was sitting on the porch one morning, his patrol car at the curb. He ... looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept. Dirty, unshaven. Smelled like he'd been at a fire.

_"Tommy?"_  
_"Hey, little sister," Thomas said. "Just sitting here. Enjoying the quiet."_  
_"You look ... awful. And you smell," Stephanie frowned._  
_"Sorry. Long night. Bad one."_  
_"Tommy, you're scaring me."_  
_"There's good reason to be scared," Thomas said. There was a solemn tone to his words that gave them a quiet menace. "There's evil in the world, little sister. And I'm not sure I'm strong enough to ..."_  
_"Thomas Cardinelli, are you drunk?" Stephanie asked harshly. It was the only thing she could think of that would make her brother this morose, this dark._  
_"No, I'm not drunk, Stephanie," her brother told her. "Tired. Learned something I'd probably be happier not knowing. Can't change it though."_  
_"Do you need to talk about it?"_  
_"Justice isn't just about punishing the guilty. It's about protecting the innocent," Thomas said. "Sorry. I'm rambling. It's ... I have a responsibility, Steph. I hope I'm up to it."_  
_"Come inside, I'll make some coffee. You can use the shower, if you want ..."_  
_"No. I've got to go. See you at Mom &amp; Dad's for Sunday dinner?"_

"... and that's the only time he mentioned any of it," Stephanie tells you.

Evie listens quietly as Mrs. Newell speaks. In all actuality, her words don't surprise the detective. She had already known that Thomas was a scion, so an encounter like this makes sense, to her. But, what of the timing?

_So, Tyr shows up and tells Thomas something, maybe. Is it revealed that he is a scion or did he already know that and he simply found out about whatever is going on?_

_Thomas knew something, obviously. Maybe he got too close to whatever it was and this was the enemy's way of saying "sod off." A handful of decades is the blink of an eye to a god or maybe even some of their agents. This isn't a long con...not by their measures._

_...a fire...a fire...I'll have to check the records and see if there were any major fires the year he disappeared._

The detective's brow furrows and she idly plays with the condensation on the outside of her tea as she thinks, "Had Thomas had any run-ins with organized criminals, that you know of? Anyone that may have held a grudge against him?"

Though Evie is not sure that any information she may get from those two questions will be relevant, there's no point in not being thorough.

"Organized crime?" Stephanie shakes her head. "No. Everyone knew Tommy was a straight arrow. There would be no point in asking him to do a favor, or paying him to look the other way - he wouldn't do it."

Evie remembers Alex saying something about his chopper getting shot down and having to make his way across hostile territory. Did Tyr require his children to undertake an ordeal, a testing-out? She filed that away for later inquiry.

Evie smiles apologetically and nods, "That's good to know. But, I wasn't thinking that he accepted bribes or anything of that nature. I was thinking more along the lines of him interfering with criminal activity to the point where someone took notice of him, specifically, as opposed to the police in general and decided to remove him as an obstacle."

"I doubt that was the case," Stephanie says. "Like I said, my older brother was a straight arrow, but he wasn't the kind of man who went looking to start a fight. If you brought it to his doorstep, that's something else. He got_that_ from Dad."

_So, let's see,_ Evie thinks. _Check about fires, ask Alex about trials, no overt connections to trouble with criminals...what else?_

Elbows resting on the table, she taps her chin thoughtfully. Finally, she says, "Would you happen to still have any items of Thomas'? I'm assuming that all of his things would've been sorted after he was pronounced deceased. But...you never know. He may have written something, left some sort of obscure clue about what was happening in his life at that time..."

She spreads her hands and smiles, "I know I'm grasping at straws, here. But, that's the way most investigations start. Until I find something that I can firmly grab and run with, I have to consider every possibility."

Evie notes to herself that she should also talk to any police officers that he was close to. More may have been shared between brothers-in-arms, so to speak. Family, Thomas may have not confided in in order to shield them.

"No. No, I'm afraid not," Stephanie says. "And, then, a year later, he was gone. I'd almost like to believe the story that he was swept away in a flash flood, perhaps saving someone's life, because that was the brother I remember. If he was murdered, I hope to God you find who was responsible, but I don't need to know the details."

There's an uncomfortable silence. It's hard to end a conversation on that kind of note.

"Come on, Detective, I'll show you out. I might as well see if the mail's here," Mike Newell tells you. He holds the door open for you. "Please follow me to the garage, Detective. Don't say anything." Newell enters the garage from an adjacent door. He goes to his workbench and pulls out the second drawer down, then fumbles beneath it before producing a legal-sized envelope, yellowed with age.

"Thomas gave this to me. Must have been a week or two after he spoke to Stephanie on the porch," Newell tells you. "Said it involved family, to keep it secret, but that, one day, I might want to give it to my wife. Kinda scared the poop out of me, sounded just as ominous as what he said to Stephanie. I just kind of forgot about it. Her folks died, I didn't see any point in dragging some skeleton out of the closet. You said you were looking for something, an obscure clue, and this may be it. Or it may be nothing. But, as Stephanie said, I'm not sure I need to know the details. I hope you find the people responsible, Detective, even if it's just to lay Tommy's ghost. You have a good day."

Newell ambles back out towards the mailbox. "Nothing. Ah, well."

As she holds the envelope, she glances down at it, wondering what could be in there. She sighs and adds, "If he was murdered, there's a good chance that whoever did it is also long gone."

_Whether or not it is true, that is what I am going to tell these good people,_she thinks.

Before Mr. Newell walks out of the door, she gently stops him with soft word, "I appreciate you and your wife helping me. I know that it's always hard when old wounds are reopened."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Newell," Evie says. "I promise that I will do my best to find the truth of what happened."

Evie waves to Mr. Newell as she gets into her car and pulls out of his driveway. She doesn't need to sit there in front of their house while she reads.

Instead, she drives a ways down the road to a strip mall and parks way in the back, near the edge of the street where no one else tends to park. (Most folks don't like to walk that far.) She leaves the engine running and the AC on.

With a small sigh of anticipation, she opens the envelope...

The letter is about a page and a half, executed in the classic middle-American longhand of a bygone era.

_Dearest Stephanie_

_Whether or not you are reading this because events have taken their own course, and we are facing the darkness and our last stand, or if you have been given this letter because Michael felt the time was right, perhaps because I am gone, or even dead._

_I am thinking, of course, of that one morning where you found me on the front porch. I imagine I must have looked awful to you, and if I frightened you, I again offer my most sincere apologies._

_In short, I'd learned something that pretty much turned the world on its ear, and I will share these things with you now. They will doubtless sound strange and will be hard to accept, but I ask that you read through to the end before making any judgments._  
_I am only your half-brother, it seems._

_Mom does not remember this herself. It was a summer's eve, shortly before Mom &amp; Dad were married. They were back in Kansas, visiting Nonno. As was proper in the day, they were sleeping in separate rooms - Dad was in the house, Mom in the small guest cottage out back._

_That was when he came to her. My real father. In the twilight and with the daydreams of her pending wedding to hand, she wasn't seeing clearly, and she didn't object when his strong arms stole about her and they kissed. And she didn't object when things progressed, and they made love beneath the stars and trees._  
_My real father. Tyr._

_He's what we call the Norse God of War. Like the ones we learned about in school. Odin. Thor. Loki. Which makes me something more than human, if I'm worthy._  
_And I will be tested, just as I had been the time you found me sitting on the porch. The End of All Things is coming, dear Sister. World War II, the whole 'Communist' thing we keep hearing about in the news, that's just the tip of the iceberg._

_I can't help but see it the way I see my job. I'm here to catch the criminals and perhaps put one or two away, but I'm also here to serve and protect the innocent. People like you, and Michael, to whom I'm giving this letter._

_I hope I'm wrong. I hope this isn't my turn at praying in Gethsemane, or that if it is, I am able to help craft a better destiny than what the legends say we have in store. __These are for you and Michael, and, if the fates are kind, your children. I may be the son of some Norse god, but you're still my little sister._

_With All My Love, Tommy_

There's a fan of EE Savings Bonds, long since matured. A quick mental calculation tells you Thomas put a month's pay into it.

Evie settles back into her seat and thinks. At first glance, this seems to be a dead-end, simply a good-bye letter to a loved one explaining that things are a lot weirder and more dangerous than either of them had ever thought. But..._World War II_...if this is a long con, could what is happening now have something to do with what happened then? The world war was over by the time that Thomas as tapped as a scion, presumably, but that doesn't mean that whatever supernatural forces were in motion had stopped.

It's a long shot and it may be nothing at all. But, who knows? She won't know unless she starts looking. That's all right, though. Goose chases are all part of the investigation process. It's sort of like science...sometimes, it's just as good to know what something _isn't._

She sets the bonds aside, there being no question in her mind about what to do with them. They will be returned to Thomas' family. She'll just have to fabricate a good lie about where she found them since Mr. Newell gave her the envelope in confidence.

_Funny, that. I'm spending all my time trying to find the truth and, yet, I'm spending an equal amount of time coming up with plausible lies to bury that truth, again,_ she snorts in mild amusement.

She pulls out her phone and looks at the time. There is still plenty of time to get to the assisted living facility. She'll have to check with the front desk when she gets there to see if it's okay to speak with Mr. Cardinelli. It may be that his health won't allow him visitors.

_I'll see when I get there,_ she puts the car into drive and pulls out of the strip mall.

The Sunrise Assisted Living Community is an apartment complex catering to the needs of senior citizens with mobility issues, outpatient medical needs, or the various stages of dementia.

"Can I help you, Ms. ...?"

"Detective Evie Cartwright, Las Vegas Police Department," you reply. "I'd like to see Nicholas Cardinelli, if I may?"

"Is there a problem, Detective?"

"We found the body of his brother, Thomas, who was thought to have been swept away by a flash flood while he was on patrol back in the 1950's," you inform the clerk. "He's not ... is he under care for dementia?"

"Oh, no. Sharp as a tack. Anne will show you to a family meeting space, and Nick will join you in a moment."

The family meeting space is off of the common area, a small sitting room looking out over the garden. A pair of couches flank a coffee table that is adorned with a vase of fresh flowers and a stack of 'coffee table' books on art and scenic locations.

"Here you go, Nick," says an orderly, holding open the door. Thomas' brother enters, walking with a slight limp and clearly dependent on a cane. "This is Detective Cartwright."

"Heard you the first time, y'know," Nick snaps back. "Got a bum knee, not bad hearing. Now scoot, while I talk to Ms. Cartwright."

Nick waits for the orderly to leave. "Good Afternoon, Detective," he smiles. "Had a bad slip-and-fall some years back, and I'm not about to impose myself on my kids, or on my sister. Have you spoken to her, yet? Orderly said this was about Thomas."

"Yes, sir," she answers, "Thomas' body was discovered a couple of days ago. You know, of course, that he was assumed lost during a flash flood. However, there is evidence that points to that not being the story. When we found him, he was still wearing his blues...and there were bullet holes in them. I'm trying to piece together what really happened."

She smiles apologetically and continues, "Being the brother of a trooper, I'm sure you know how this goes. With the case being so old, there's not much for me to go on, initially. So, I'm trying to learn everything that I can about Thomas and what he may have been working on before his disappearance."

Leaning forward a bit, she rests her elbow on the chair's arm as she talks, "Thomas' reports from just before his disappearance seemed pretty routine. However, did he ever mention anything to you about work? Anything odd? Did he ever seem particularly stressed...well...more stressed than the job normally warrants?"

_Ah! Perhaps I can hand off the bonds to Nick while I am here,_ she thinks._Easy enough to say that I found them when going through Thomas' old paperwork or somesuch._

"You mean things like worrying about the End of the World?" Nick says quietly. "And not because he'd found Jesus. The messy Norse version."

Evie's eyes widen slightly in surprise and delight. Thomas had talked to someone in his family! Fleetingly, she wonders if she will be able to do the same, though she does not dwell upon it. Now is not the time.

"Exactly," she answers. She lowers her voice but keeps her face neutral, the epitome if friendly professionalism. The last thing she wants to have happen is an orderly walk by, hear their conversation and assume that Nicholas isn't as sharp as they had thought.

For a second, she struggles with the choice of whether to be frank. Did Nicholas think that Thomas was crazy, that it was all a figment of his imagination? Or, does he believe? If she's unlucky and Nicholas reports her to HQ as being loopy, she could lose her job. But...

_...I can't pussyfoot around. If I lose my job, so be it. This is more important. I'll lose resources, but I can still work on this. I have money set aside. I'll do okay for a while._

_I may not even live long enough to have to worry about it..._

"There were other things surrounding his death that make it clear he died defending this world. Things that I can't put into a report. But, it seems that whatever Thomas was fighting...the wheels are still in motion. If he told you anything that might help me and some others fight this, I'd appreciate it."

"I didn't want to believe it," Nicholas says quietly. "But then I realized it's in Christian ... mythology? ... as well. The ultimate battle between good and evil. Armageddon. It's in cultures around the globe, and from different eras.

"So either there was a lot of plagiarizing going on back in the day, or there's a reason for the commonalities. And it isn't space aliens."

"I still don't pretend to understand any of it, Detective, but every now and then you see something in the news. Some new extreme for human greed or violence. The gods Thomas talked about, no one remembers them. They're characters out of books for kids.

"It's like it's hiding in plain sight. One day, it's going to pop us right in the jaw, and we're going to be, 'Where did _that_ come from?' even though it's been there all along."

Nicholas fishes inside his sweater and pulls out several pages of yellowed paper. Each page is filled with notes in a precise hand. While it's not the cursive of the letter Michael Newell showed you, you know it's Thomas Cardinelli's writing.

"Thomas gave me this. Said it was a copy, and that people on his side might be interested in the information if something happened to him," Nicholas tells you. "Said he was chasing down something on that Roget fellow. When they told us Thomas was dead, I expected to hear from someone. Nothing. Not even at the funeral.  
"That scared me, and I put this in a lockbox for a long time. I mean, Thomas tells me he's the son of a god, an actual god, and someone had the moxie to take him out of the picture for good. Playing for all the marbles. So maybe it's time for a rematch."

The pages list several names, a woman and four men, including Armand Roget. A short paragraph lists biographical details and connections with others on the list. Addresses, license plates, assorted snippets of information.

"Thank you, Mr. Cardinelli. Thank you so much! This will be a great help," Evie tucks the papers away in the pocket of the notebook she carries, eager to share this information with the others as soon as she can.

As she closes it, she sighs softly and says, "I'm sorry that it has taken so long for Thomas' battle to be addressed, and for you to learn more. But, I don't think that the battles of the gods quite work on the same timescale as they do for humans...and those of us born as half-god."

Evie's brow furrows, "Sir, I would keep you in the loop but...I'm afraid that it might be dangerous for me to do that. I think that you deserve to know what is going on after losing your brother, but at the same time, I don't want to make you a target. I wouldn't put it past the enemies to kill you out of spite."

"Right now, I think that I am still flying under the enemy's radar, but that probably won't last for long. I know that at least one of my team is already known and I don't know how much longer the rest of us can stay hidden. I don't want to attract attention to you."

Evie flips open her notebook, again, and pulls out the envelope that Thomas had left for Stephanie. She hands it to Nicholas, "I can give you this, though. Thomas left it for Stephanie. Her husband gave it to me in secret when I talked to them earlier. Both of them expressed the desire to not know the truth, and I can respect that. But, this needs to be kept in your family."

Nicholas looks at the sheaf of bonds and does a quick mental calculation. "Stephanie's kids can use this more than I can. Thank you."

"Whether or not the enemy knows about my family, and what comes of it, depends on the people on that list, probably. Though I remember reading that Roget fellow died recently."

Evie nods, "Of course. I figured you would know best what to do with the bonds."

"Yeah," Evie settles back into her seat and nods. "Roget is how I found out about Thomas. You know that they are knocking down the Roget building, right? Well, Thomas' body was found under the building in a sarcophagus made of a single piece of meteoric iron with Poetic Edda written around the outside. His hand had been cut off, making him an even greater representation of his father, Tyr."

The detective laughs softly, "I have no idea how I could explain _that_ in a police report. The good thing is, though, that no one else can explain it, either. So, I'll be just be added to the masses at HQ who are scratching their heads over it."

"But, I think Thomas' death was...a warning?...a challenge?...the message was definitely meant for the gods and their children, though."

Evie closes her notebook and stands, "Thank you for your help, Nicholas. You have no idea how much you've helped me."

She reaches out to shake his hand. Though his skin is fine and papery, as elderly folks' skin often is, his grip is still strong and true, "You've helped me personally, too. I just found out about myself...my heritage...recently. It's good to know that I'm not crazy and I'm not alone."

As she lets go of his hand, Evie says, "I won't come back here. I'm not going to risk putting you and yours in danger. You take care of yourself. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that Thomas' enemies are stopped."

"I appreciate that, Detective," Nicholas tells you. "Perhaps, when this is all over, and if I'm still here chasing the nurses down the hall, you can visit and we'll raise a glass of orange juice - I'm pretty sure they don't serve mead in the dining room - in Thomas' name."

"Absolutely!" Evie gives the elderly gentleman a genuine, brilliant smile.

She then turns and makes her way back to her car. She slides into the seat and opens the paper that Nicholas had given her. As she looks over what is written there, she pulls out her phone and dials Alex's number, intent on passing along this information.

If not for your own experiences, you might be inclined to write Thomas' notes off as conspiracy-theory rambling, or, at the very least, sloppy police-work. Roget, of course, you know about. A relative nobody whose fortune had come from a long-odds bet at the Sands, but ended up having the ears of the city's movers and shakers. There had even been an unsuccessful Senate run in the 1960's. As for Roget's business, Thomas had put in quotes the word 'investments.'

Some of the other names are Vegas notables. James 'Sonny' Asano was a businessman who'd been in an interment camp, then, like Roget, catapulted onto the business scene. He was the reclusive CEO of the Miyako Hotel and Casino - though, like Roget and Cardinelli, he'd have to be in his eighties ... which might not mean much when one had ichor in their veins rather than blood.

Eleanor Kendall was a socialite who had inherited a small fortune from an industrialist father. Her fashion model looks had linked her with celebrities and power players, from Frank Sinatra to JFK. As far as you know, she's still prominent on the social circuit.

Douglas Maxwell is listed as a dealer at the Sands. As the Sands is no longer in existence, and it's unlikely that there's an eighty year-old man dealing blackjack, he will be more difficult to track down.

Thomas' notes about Edward McCain express doubts about the man being a Scion. Instead, he asks if McCain could be an Einjehar or a human bound by Jotunblut. You're not familiar with either word.

Last, and perhaps the most suspicious of the names, is someone simply named _Wolf_. No address. No first name. No details. And a word that you aren't quite ready to cope with.

Demigod.

The phone rings several times before Alex North picks up. "Evie. What's up?"

"Alex, hey. I've got some information," she pauses and considers whether or not to talk over the phone. In all likelihood, no one is listening to their conversations. At least, not yet. But...better safe than sorry. "Are you at your office?"

"Yeah, I am. Drop on by when you're able," Alex says.

"Great. I'll see you later this afternoon. Bye!" she hangs up and fishes around for Hitoshi's number. Once she finds it, she calls. She's unsure whether he will be working at the garage or with Lya at this time of day.

The phone picks up after 3 rings, and the sound of shop work can be heard in the background. "Yes? Hitoshi speaking. Mike, hand me that five eights wrench. Thank you... Hello?"

"Hey, Hitoshi. Sorry to bother you at work. I've found some information, though. When would be a good time to catch up with you?" Evie says as she puts the key in the ignition and cranks up the car. "Also, when would be a good time to contact Lya?"

Hitoshi slides out from under the car he's working on, and sits up. "Lya? I have no clue. She partied pretty hard last night. I don't know when she will be up, and She's a grumpy hungover. The kind you throw chocolate and coffee at from a safe distance. Myself? I got a lunch break in an hour. Was gonna head over to the Diner for a greasy burger. You are welcome to meet me there. I'll buy lunch."

"Great! I could use some lunch, as well. I'm running off of a poptart and cup of coffee, both of which are starting to wear off. I'll meet you there," she cranks the car and sits, not going until she finishes talking. "I'll meet Alex after lunch to fill him in. I don't know when I'll catch up to Lya. I do want to talk to her before going to the casino, tonight, though."

"See you at the diner, then. Take care!" Evie says her farewell and hangs up, letting Hitoshi get back to work.

She looks at the clock and realizes that she doesn't have a lot of time to kill before she meets Hitoshi. It'll take a bit to get back across town to the Diner. So, she has maybe 30 minutes to spare. Evie figures she can spend that time filling up her gas tank and maybe swinging by the grocery store to grab some fresh bread and a few cans of soup for home.

Before she pulls out of the parking lot, she sends Alex a text. _Meeting Hitoshi at the Diner for lunch to fill him in. Can I bring you some food when I come to the office?_

Alex texts back. _Whatever Rick has as the special will do. I'll call it in and tell them you're picking up for me. Thanks._

Evie finally finishes up and rolls out of the parking lot, starting to make her way towards the Diner. She does stop to get gas and swings into a grocery store a few blocks away. It's a short trip as she quickly grabs such culinary delights as peanut butter, bread, some Campbell's Chunky Soup and that horrible yet oh-so-tasty Kraft Mac &amp; Cheese.

Yeah..._somebody_ is single and lives alone. Well, that and it's all stuff that can happily live in the back seat of her car all day without worrying about spoilage.

Finally, she arrives at the Diner. She greets Maggie warmly and scans the restaurant, looking to see if she's beaten Hitoshi there.

Hitoshi rides up moments later on his 1990 Star Stryker motorcycle. It's his baby, the one he was gifted when he first started working at the shop, the one he tore down and rebuilt himself. It was old but still had style with it's black frame, silver parts, and dark blue trim. Most of the time the band turned the heads, but when he rode that, people watched.

He pulls off his helmet and shakes out his hair, brushing it back with his fingers. He brushes off the highway dust and steps inside pulling off his shades.

"Hey mags, One Coke with Lemon please."

He looks over at Evie. "Good afternoon Officer Cartwright."

"Good to see you, Hitoshi," Evie gestures to one of the booths, "This seat okay?"

When Hitoshi sits down across from her, she smiles and says, "How's your day going, so far?" She figures she can drop the information on him after they have ordered.

Hitoshi shrugs. "SSDD, Same Shit, Different Day." He leans back against the bench seat and cracks his back. "I'm used to it. So, what did you need?"

"Heh," she chuckles softly. "I guess at least I've gotten a different flavor of shit, lately."

Evie opens her notebook and passes the notes that Thomas Cardinelli had written so long ago to Hitoshi, "It's that bit at the bottom that has me extra worried, the one about _Wolf._"

When Maggie comes over to take their order, Evie orders something fast and easy. She still has two other team mates to visit before the end of the day, plus she still needs to get back to HQ and work a bit on the Davison case. _Just because I've got an possible apocalypse on my hands doesn't mean I can ignore everything else..._

Hitoshi scans through the notes. "umm hate to say this Officer Cartwright, but I can't read Cop shorthand." He slides the notes back. "yea, give me the cliff notes version. It gives us a reason to talk."

Maggie place a big greasy burger with everything on it and fries down in front of me. "Mags, you always treat me well. Thank you."

"Yes, it's that really tiny print we learn from having to use pocket-sized notebooks," Evie smiles. "All right, this came from Thomas' brother, who initially didn't know what to make of it. He didn't want to believe this end-of-the-world stuff was real.

"The notes list five individuals and list things like addresses, important facts, that sort of thing. The list starts with Armand Roget, who had a rags-to-riches moment on a long-odds bet, and parlayed that into being an 'investment' person with influence at City Hall. He's dead.

"Eleanor Kendall, you might know. Wealthy socialite, still very much a social butterfly with a dose of Lady Macbeth.

"Douglas Maxwell, blackjack dealer at the Sands. Could still be around.

"Edward McCain, no real details here, but Thomas wrote down the words, 'Einjehar' and 'Jotunblut' - which are clearly from my side of the fence, but I'm not familiar with them. Maybe Alex is.

"And the one I'm worried about is this last one. Someone with the last name of Wolf, no address, facts that are crossed out or contradicted, and one word that I'm not sure I'm ready for.

"Demigod."

Hitoshi listens intently and is silent for a few moments.

"Demigods are supposed to be the half human children of the gods, but then that's us... Scions. Could there be another level above us? Something more powerful? Dad and I had a real big fight and I walked away before he could tell me much more than Hi, I'm your father, and I'm a god, and Oh, by the way, you will have to fight great evil beings in the near future. Most of the other Japanese gods have been Sympathetic to me so that's where I've gotten most of my info from."

He sighs. "I know I should probably talk to dad with whats coming, but the question is will he even talk to me now."

Evie shakes her head, "I have no idea. I was really hoping you would!"

She leans back in her seat and listens as Hitoshi tells of his father. After a couple minutes of thought, she says, "You know, I bet he would talk to you. I mean, let's face it...you're probably not his only son and you're probably not the only one to have stormed out on him. These guys are immortal. They have had all of time to experience just about every reaction one of their children could have."

"I know exactly nothing about Hachiman, so I could be way off base, here, but...I bet he's been waiting for you to cool down before talking to you, again. Time to him and time to us...kinda different, you know?" she shrugs and smiles.

Hitoshi scratches the back of his head. "Frankly I'm not even sure how to get a hold of him." He takes a few bites of his burger and chews thoughtfully before taking a sip of his soda and swallowing.

"What about you, can you get a hold of your dad?"

"Pray...I guess?" she kind of laughs at that, shaking her head as she does so. "I was never religious. I've always only really, truly believed in what I can see...touch...hear. To find out that something that I previously thought was nothing more than a bunch of crap...Well, it's made me re-evaluate things."

Hitoshi Shrugs. "What things? You mean god? If our Parents exist why wouldn't HE exist as well?"

"Not the Christian god, specifically. Just gods in general. That they exist at all and what that means for reality as I know it."

"Ah, my misunderstanding then." Hitoshi says between bites. "So, what do you think we should do about the whole situation then? Right now everything looks like gang incidents so far. That's not really supernatural per say."

Evie chews on her lip, ignoring her food for the moment. She's hungry but, with her mind so preoccupied, food is mostly forgotten, "I don't think there's much we can do, legally, at this point. As you said, it's just the usual gang shenanigans and everything will have to be addressed within that definition."

"Maybe after tonight we'll have more to work with. Maybe someone will screw up, or show up, or..something. We need more to go on, both in what we show the world and what we do privately." She absently takes a bite of her sandwich, "I'm going to start digging into the same stuff that Thomas was and see what I can turn up there."

"Have you heard anything in the past couple of days? Any rumblings on the street?"

Hitoshi shakes his head. "The Gangs tend to avoid me like the Plague. I'm hazardous to their collective health." He gives a boyish grin that says it all. He wasnt going to admit to hospitalizing any of the members of various gangs, but anyone with half a brain could put two and two together. He wasn't exactly hiding it, and in every case the idiots attacked him first so it was always self defense or in defense of another.

Evie chuckles. Officially, she has to remain objective and would never actually do anything outside of what the law defines as allowable behavior. Personally, well...she has exactly zero problems with gang members getting their heads knocked together by someone with more freedom than she. She's seen too many lives destroyed or mangled by what gangs do in her career.

"So, any plans for the band, tonight? They're going to play at the casino, right?"

Hitoshi grins. "Well Lya doesn't know it yet, but she's about to meet her idols. I may have fibbed to her just a bit. She's not playing in an amateur event at the Casino. The Furies are opening for the Necromantics. Lya has been a fan of theirs for as long as I have known her. She's gonna Sqeeee." He takes a long slurp of his soda with a satisfied look on his face.

"Hey mags, How about some of that famous apple pie?"

"Coming right up, Hitoshi," Maggie smiles. "A la mode?"

Evie laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling merrily, "That's awesome! You know...I have no idea who the Necromantics are but...that is going to be a fantastic surprise for Lya."

"So, how did you wind up being their go-to guy, anyway? How'd you two meet?" she asks as she sips on her drink.

" Give us the works Mags."

Hitoshi loved his pie.

"Well It's a bit of a story but we have time. Mom and I had just recently moved here due to her getting a job. It was right when the Westview Grand had opened. In my evenings, I'd wander the strip, and once I got bored with them, I started wandering other places. I got into my fair share of trouble too. You can probably find a few reports on me for street fighting."

He takes another sip of his soda.

"You could say I had a chip on my shoulder. I didn't take shit from anybody. Gang members didn't like the Half Jap wandering their hoods, and so on more than one occasion they tried to solve the problem. the problem is they thought they could fight. I know at least five forms of martial arts thanks to my younger years in Japan. Suffice to say eventually they got the message and left me alone."

Maggie arrives with two oversized slices of Apple pie covered in whipped cream with a side of vanilla ice cream. Hitoshi's eyes light up and he digs in, speaking between bites.

"It was a month or so after I had gotten a job a Ray's Garage, I was out walking late and came across the aftermath of a gang party. Only it looked like the party was still going for a few members only one of them wasn't having fun if you know what I mean. I didn't like what I saw so I grabbed a piece of pipe and put boot to ass. When I was done, I left 6 gangers on the ground probably unable to walk again, and I had saved one scare girl. I'd like to say I have some remorse for what I did to those guys, but the honest thing is, I really don't give a fuck. Ever since then Lya and I have been friends. When she formed the band, I just sorta took it upon myself to be the Bodyguard."

He shrugs. "That's pretty much all there is."

"Thank you," Evie says as she accepts a slice of pie. She happily pops a bite of deliciousness in her mouth as she listens quietly to Hitoshi's tale.

She shakes her head, thinking to herself, _Fucking gangs_ but she says nothing. Instead, she simply says, "You're a good friend, Hitoshi. Lya's lucky to have you around."

"So, you know martial arts? Maybe you'd like to join me sometime to spar. I'm afraid that I don't know as many techniques as you do, but I do know Aikido," she says. "It comes in handy when someone gets a whiff of bacon that they don't like." The corner of her mouth quirks upwards, a silent acknowledgement that not everyone appreciates the police.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "I am sorry, but I only train alone. Not all of what I was taught was Non-lethal or Soft form, and I have combined many moves into fluid motions that I do without thinking. Something might happen."

He spits out a quick excuse. It was true, but what was more true was that he trained without his shirt on, and no one needed to see the scars and marks on his skin. He was self-conscious about them. So self-conscious in fact that he had bit the bullet and gone to a body artist and had his whole torso covered in giant tattoos in an attempt to hide the horrible disfiguring scars. Since he'd gotten the Scars before he became a Scion, they never quite healed properly, and though the artist did an amazing job, at the right angle, they could still be seen.

"Fair enough," Evie replies, unfazed by this. "Most of what I know is non-lethal and meant to disarm or disable. I'm usually fighting to try to contain a situation, not necessarily bring it to a sudden and messy end."

Glancing at the clock on her phone, Evie realizes that she needs to get a move on if she's going to talk to both Lya and Alex, too. She really wants everyone to have the same information before tonight, just in case any of it has bearing on what happens. Honestly, the only thing she thinks _might_come into play is the mention of _Wolf_, but...you never know. If any of these other people mentioned are/were scions and had connections...

"I hate to cut this short, but I need to talk to Alex and Lya, too. And, I still need to work on the Davison case before I leave for the casino. Thanks for meeting me for lunch, though," she pulls out her wallet and pulls out a few bills, ready to pay and add her portion of the tip.

Hitoshi shakes his head and holds up his hand. "I got this. Have a good day officer cartwright. "

"Thanks! I'll get the next one," she smiles brightly and adds, "And, it's Evie. No need for formalities."

She goes up to the counter and waits for Maggie to finish with another customer. Evie doesn't even have to say anything, though. The waitress grabs a bag of food from where it has been sitting only briefly and hands it to her. Stapled to the top is a receipt with the words "A. North pick-up Cartwright" scrawled across the top.

"Thanks, Maggie. You have a good day!"

"You, too, hun! Be safe out there," Maggie waves as Evie backs out of the door.

"That's the plan!" she calls back with a smile.

As she walks back to her car, food in hand, she pulls out her phone and dials Lya's number. She hopes that the rocker will be awake by this time of day.


	6. Ms Perfect

Five past the hour, and Hitoshi clamped down on irritation that was premature, but would come soon enough, as Karen Ryder quietly remonstrated her son for being late. His smartphone pinged as he was riding up in the elevator: James confirming that the buyout had gone through, the papers were signed, and Hitoshi was now the majority shareholder in the Westview Grand, trading on the NYSE as WVG, the Westview Group.

"Good Morning, Hitoshi," Karen Ryder smiled. She stepped forward and straightened his tie, even though it didn't need it. "At least you didn't sleep in your clothes this time."

Hitoshi bit back his customary retort as he realized someone else was in the room.

"Mika?" Karen said. "I'd like you to meet my son, Hitoshi."

The woman turned away from the window. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with the prettiness of a J-Pop starlet, but there was a serious demeanor behind the pleasant smile.

"Ryder-san. Mr. Ryder," she said. "Mika Hanamura. I look forward to working with you."  
Hitoshi returned the smile with his own, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I had some informal discussions with the board, and we agreed that there's room for you to take a more formal role with the Westview Group, and here at the Casino," Karen said. "The title may change as the details are worked out, but Executive Director for Live Entertainment will do. You're familiar with the music scene through your … friends, and there will be opportunities to travel.

"Mika will be your executive assistant. She has an MBA from Stanford University and is fluent in several languages. Now, we have lunch reservations at the President's Club."

Hitoshi rolls his eyes at his mother's words. "You know mother, I actually have a job.. as a vehicle mechanic. It pays decently. Thirty an hour."

Sighing he turns and Bows to Miss Hanamura. "Hanamura-san, pleasure to meet you. I hope my mother hasn't been too troublesome."

Still despite his words, he holds the door open for his mother and Miss Hanamura.

"It's about making a serious investment in your future, Hitoshi," your mother replies, as if you did nothing but wallow in grease and grime all day.

The President's Club is one of the more prestigious dining venues at the Westview. Classic oak paneling and brass fittings surround tables that are designed for luxury, not economy of space. And there's actually a dress code of jacket and tie for men, a dress for women. No jeans, shorts, no casual/pool wear. Reservations only.

The food, of course, is of a corresponding grade, a five-star menu prepared under the supervision of a dedicated executive chef, rather than the same-entree-different-name platings offered in some venues with shared kitchen space.

You are greeted warmly by the staff as your party enters, and you recognize your mother's influence in the 'thirty second rule' - a guest is greeted and seated within thirty seconds, their drink orders asked after immediately.

Mika strikes you as an odd blend of modern businesswoman and the deferential assistant of the classical Japanese corporate model. But instead of a notepad, she is armed with a tablet computer, smartphone, and Bluetooth earpiece.

"I've taken the liberty of reviewing the existing contracts and scheduled performances through the end of the year," she tells you. "Once you inform me as to your preferred workflow, I will make adjustments to see that you are provided with the details necessary for efficient operations."

Umf. It sounds like one of your mother's lectures on attention to detail. No wonder she likes the girl.

Hitoshi sighs and flags down a waiter. "Rum and Coke, and I want it half and half. Please and thank you."

He turns his attention back to the conversation. "Mother, I have already taken care of my future, and no, it's none of your business. Now Miss Hanamura, IF I take the job, and IF you are my assistant, I have one major rule. Business is not to be discussed when sitting down to eat. It ruins my appetite, but mother will say different, well thats tough. She can say all she likes, but I know enough to know that IF I am The Director of Entertainment, I will have the right to choose those that work for me, and how certain situations are handled, Despite what she says." He looks his Mother in the eye, daring her to say something.

"Or I can just get up and walk away right now Mother."

"Yes, Mr. Ryder," Mika says. "Sumimasen."

She promptly tucks the tablet out of sight, silences her phone, and removes her earpiece. Again, you are aware of the curious dichotomy - a deferential manner with a hint of steel beneath.

"You're being difficult, Hitoshi," Karen frowns. "Don't take it out on Miss Hanamura. Mika, dear, don't fret. Your position is safe, even if my son declines the offer. If I'd had that attitude, I'd still be serving drinks on the casino floor."

"It's a pity you don't want to talk business," she continues. "There are some exciting opportunities on the horizon for the Westview Group."

_Oh, if only you knew, Mother_ Hitoshi told himself. Buying out J.T. Jennings, for starters.

"Mister Ryder... Please Call me Hitoshi. I'd like to think I'm not old enough yet to be called Mister." He says smiling at Mika.

"Oh and Mother, she will be working for me IF I take the job. I'd rather get what little you have beaten into her out, and get her real training. I need an assistant with Empathy and people skills if I take this job, not an iron fisted totalitarian watching my every move."

The waiter arrives with his drink and he thanks the man tipping him a twenty right on the spot. "Ah, now that... is a rum and coke" He says after taking a long sip of the drink.

"Now Mother, I actually need your advice on something. Considering I have never eaten here, What would you recommend to order?"

"The Cedar Plank Salmon is excellent," Karen says, ignoring your remonstration. "But, really, it depends on your appetite. You can get a cowboy-cut ribeye, or the petite filet with prawns."

The food is excellent, worthy of a future visit. The stilted silence reminds you of why your mother drives you slightly crazy. There isn't a common ground between you; your passions and avocations are dismissed as the temporary obsessions of a teenaged son. You've grown up, and she hasn't noticed. Or doesn't want to.

It's a bit sad, really.

"Hitoshi, in defense of your mother, nothing was 'beaten into' me," Mika finally says. Your mother begins to interject something, but Mika forestalls her with a direct look.

"I will follow your lead. If you prefer an assistant who keeps her mouth shut and walks three steps behind you, I can do that. If you prefer I be open and direct with you, I can do that. Or I can thank you for this opportunity and be on the next flight back home."

Hitoshi sighs. "Miss Hanamura, I am not wholly opposed to this job to be honest, however I will not make this decision over the course of a meal. Something this big must be slept on. If you need a room here at the hotel, I am sure my mother can pay for one. If not, I will. My decision will be made tomorrow. For now, I simply wish to eat, and get to know my potential work partner better. Also, I work with a bunch of Women who have no trouble speaking their opinion so I have no problem in you doing so. However, the difference between them and my mother is they don't try and control my life."

He takes another long sip of his drink as the waiter comes back. "Anyways, all decisions will be made tomorrow. Now ladies order first."

"If we aren't being formal, then, Mika, please," she says. She turns to the waiter. "I'll have the chicken club salad, the half-size, please."

Your mother orders the cedar plank salmon. She still has the 'tolerant mother' expression going, and the mild irritation of having to always play chess with her over your decisions briefly sours what is otherwise a perfectly-mixed rum and coke.

"Very well then Mika. I can live with that." Despite his mother being there and ruining what might have been an otherwise fine lunch, he still enjoyed the Rum and Coke for it's Numbing qualities. Eventually even it would make her more tolerable. "So Mika, you mentioned home. Where would that be exactly?"

"San Francisco, while I worry about finding a job and making some ... difficult choices," Mika tells you. "I'm originally from Kyoto, lived there through high school. College was my chance to make a fresh start." 

Hitoshi sets down his fork. "Kyoto, interesting. I lived in Kyoto until I was Eighteen. Then We moved here due to Mother's job." He takes a bite of fish and chews thoughtfully, swallowing before speaking again as Proper dining etiquette was not the same as one would use when eating in a greasy spoon diner.

"I am from Kyoto, but my family was ... very traditional," Mika says. "My father did not approve of the American influences in our culture, and had strict rules about where we could go, and what we could do."

"I see." Hitoshi steeples his fingers in front of him. "I experienced first hand the non approval of My american heritage many times in back hallways of the local schools, and back alleyways of the city streets." He lets his hands fall and then shrugs. "But the past is the past, and for the most part is something I could care less about."

"Please. It was not pleasant for my family, either. My younger brother mentioned baseball once, and father ... disciplined him. Harshly," Mika said. "My apologies, Ms. Ryder, if this subject is ... disturbing. I do not enjoy speaking of it, but I think Hitoshi should know."

Hitoshi thinks for a moment on how to reply before nodding once. "I never knew my father. Mother raised me with the help of some friends and what family we had over there. Once my grandfather died, it was just me and her." He says this with an even tone, and does not seem to bother him one bit.

Mika simply bows her head slightly, respecting the space within Hitoshi's memories. "My father is a good man. He is just ... he lives in a world of strict rules by choice. For me, it is more than wanting to make different choices. I am not being a rebellious daughter. I am deciding what rules _I_ want to live by."

"I do not know your father, therefore, I have nothing to base an argument for or against him. However, punishing ones child for their choices in life is something I am against. Of course I also happen to be against trying to force a child down a path in live that they don't wish to go."

He glances over at his mother as he says these words and takes another few bites of his meal.

"It is doubtful your paths would have crossed," Mika agrees. "He keeps to his ... business concerns. That a parent is forthcoming with their expectations does not mean they love them any less. But bound roots do not make for a strong tree."

"Well now a days, you'd be surprised who I cross paths with, but back then, I tended to keep to myself." With that said he finishes off his drink, and then his fish. The meal tasted amazing, but like any fancy restaurant, the portions were small.

"Well I must say, for once, I appreciate your advice Mother, the Fish was amazing."

"Joshua is an excellent chef," Karen says. "He has an attention to detail that I admire."

You smile and wonder if that 'attention to detail' drives the line cooks as crazy as your mother's particular expression of that quality. Probably not. While there's a certain precision to the craft, as Rick can attest to, he runs his kitchen off _awareness_, not micro-management.

With Mika, it is hard to tell if the veiled references to her father and his business mean he is a corporate samurai, a nationalist, or possibly ... Yakuza.

"I'm sure he is, but it's not all attention to detail, sometimes it's gut feeling and intuition as well as awareness." Hitoshi replies. He ponders The woman across from him. He wanted to ask Mika about her father, but he wasn't one to pry. He looks at his watch to check the time. Most people just had cell phones for the time, but He always like watches. Granted it wasn't a Rolex, but it was sturdy, and had the time and date on it, and that was all he needed.

'Well in a few more hours, the band will be playing. Tell me Mother, Who Chose the Necrmantics to play? While I'm glad that Lya and the Furies get to open for them, a Punk Goth Metal band is not the most obvious choice for a Casino show."

"It came about from our discussions about having a Director of Live Entertainment," Karen said. "The board wants to attract a younger demographic, and a one-night-only appearance by Nekromantix was something they were willing to allow. Putting a local group as the opener is simply good business."  
"And I do hope you will give serious consideration to taking the position, Hitoshi."

Hitoshi Facepalms. "Really Mother? A Younger crowd? You mean exactly like I told you lets see..." He whips out his phone and cues up the calendar. "May seventeenth of last year, and I remember you calling it childish, and a horrible idea. Yes, I put it in my calendar because I knew it would come up again, and after tonight, I'm gonna owe you an I told you so, and you will owe me an apology." He slides his phone back into his pocket.

"As for the job mother, I AM giving it serious consideration. that's why I'm not saying yes immediately. I was listening when you told some some things mother. Not that you were around much in my early teenage years, but when you were I actually listened to a few things."

"I wasn't 'around' because I was working," Karen says defensively. "But, as you occasionally remind me, I don't have to justify my existence to you. Still, if you accept the job, it would make me proud."

Mika's discomfort at a difference of opinion between mother-and-son becomes a bit more evident. "If you will excuse me, Hitoshi, Ms. Ryder. I wish to use the ladies' room."

Hitoshi watches Mika walk away, and only speaks when she's out of view. "So, where'd you find her, cause she's gonna have to grow a spine if she's to deal with both of us. You have your opinion, and I have mine, and we just don't agree on a lot of things."

"A spine. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Hitoshi. She's an excellent executive assistant, amazingly quick on the uptake," Karen tells you. "As for us disagreeing, and this is not to bribe you into accepting the position, the board is considering making it separate from Resort Operations. We would both be reporting directly to the Board and the CEO, not you to me."

Hitoshi rubs his left pinky with his thumbs. It strangely tended to hurt and throb lately.

"Like I said Mother, I shall have to think on it. I don't want to jump into this lightly, and if I do, I want to cut ties with the autoshop without burning my bridges and friendships with them, Not to mention the band. I've been with them a long time, and that job was more about the friendship than the money."

He snorts at the mention of reporting to the board and CEO, and not to her. If only she knew that he WAS a member of the board. She'd find out tomorrow though.

"Sorry, something tickled my nose there."

"Well, then. The board meeting is slated for 1PM, lunch will be catered around 11:30," Karen says. "May I have your decision before the meeting, at least? You don't need to join us for lunch unless you want to."

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Unfortunately I'll be working till 2 PM. The Police Chief brought in his Harley for service, and Mike put me on it since I'm the best. I'll have to let you know after the meeting then. When's it over?"

He didn't actually have to work, but she didn't know that, and he wasn't about to tell her that he was suddenly going to show up at the meeting and upstage her.

"It shouldn't be terribly long. No later than 3PM, I imagine," your mother answers. "If you are able to make it, text me. My phone will be on silent, but I'll see your message."

"umm why would I attend a Meeting of the Shareholders? I don't own any stock." Hitoshi raises an eyebrow and does his best to look confused. Inside however, he's worried that She already knows.

"I suggested you as a candidate, but I'm not the one offering you the job, Hitoshi," your mother says. "The Board of Directors seemed amenable to the idea."

Hitoshi nods. "Ah, I see. Well then I shall do my best to be there then. I'll have to go into work early." He shrugs. "I'll figure it out Mother."

_"Well I suppose it's only natural considering they don't know I already am one of them."_ He thinks to himself.

Mika returns to her seat at the table.

Your mother dabs her mouth with a napkin. "Well, then. Mika, dear, your position as executive assistant for the Director of Live Entertainment is secure, even if my son declines the position. Hitoshi, I will see you tomorrow."  
Karen departs in her customary precise manner.

Mika stands and gives you a respectful bow, then presents her business card to you, observing _meishi_.  
"Hitoshi-san, I understand you have not given your decision on the job opportunity," she says. "If you should require my services, you may reach me by phone or e-mail. It has been a pleasure to meet you."

Hitoshi stand and bows, politely accepting her card.

"My apologies but I do not have a business card. I have never had a need to carry them. However after tomorrow I will probably have to get some. Your services will most likely be needed, do not fret."

He pockets the card and straightens. "If you like punk rock music, the band will be playing this evening, I shall leave a ticket at the door for you. Please, feel free yo make use of it."

"_Domo arigato gozaimashita, Hitoshi-san," she says. "I am not familiar with that style of music, but it will be good to familiarize myself with it, _neh_? I will see you tonight."

Hitoshi smiles. "Well IF I take the job, you may find yourself associating with the band quiet a bit. Have a good day." He bows again and watches as she leaves before approaching the elevator. Suddenly he stops.

'Shit, I forgot to tell mother about the restock. Guess I'll have to do it myself."

He grins. His mother would kill him if she knew that he knew where the Hotel's booze supply was.


	7. The Trap Springs

"Look out, High Roller coming through!" said Tony, one of the bail bondsmen.

"Oh, come off it," Alex waved at him dismissively. Consequently, he didn't see Orithia emerge from the limousine. She was dressed in a silver mail top, sleeveless with a scoop neck; and a white leather mini-skirt, the skirt slit to allow freedom of movement. A white band winked from her right thigh, suggestive of a garter, but which Alex realized was probably a holster or weapon harness. Orithia's modest jewelry included a torc-like necklace and bracelets - no doubt a gorget and bracers. She wore stylish ankle boots with low heels, making Alex aware of her height and athletic mien.

"Hello, Alex," she smiled, giving him a perfunctory kiss on his cheek. "You look nice."

"You look amazing."

"You honor me," Orithia said reflexively. "Come on, let's go play."

She led Alex into the limousine, whereupon he found Phoebe sitting sideways on one bench, rather than hunch over in the confines of the vehicle. She was clad in a similar fashion, her dress looking to be a velvet minidress, but which would doubtless prove to be supple calfskin. A gold chain-link belt was slung low across her hips, and she held a small clutch that was just big enough for a collapsible baton or small pistol. She wore fingerless half-gloves with decorative studs that were probably entirely practical when it came to punching someone's lights out.

Klepto — Kleoptoleme — was in the back-facing seat. Her ensemble was a Grecian-style dress with more pronounced 'jewelry' at her neck and throat, as well as a hip-to-waist sash of fine mail. She appeared to be idly twirling a set of drumsticks, but she wasn't tapping out a rhythm in the air - she was moving through a martial kata that Alex definitely didn't want to be on the receiving end of.

"Toxic is with Lya and Hitoshi. They'll be waiting at the casino," Orithia said. "And I'd expect a welcoming committee. Two of the puppy dogs were parked down the block, watching you and your office. Are you armed, warrior?"

"Knife," Alex said, taking utility blade out of his pocket. It was a lockback, one-handed opener, the mechanism lubricated to bring the blade into play with a flick of one's wrist. "Other than that, body armor."

Phoebe placed a hand on his chest, pressing it against the armor. "Trauma plate. Lya had said something about you being shot. Were you wearing this?"

Alex shook his head. "No. I got _shot_."

Klepto stopped twirling her 'drumsticks'. Stab. Beat. Block. Stab. "Do you regenerate, Alex? Or are you like Achilles, just a tough son-of-a-bitch?"

"No, not like Achilles. I'm not sure what I do. Did. I healed, but I don't know how far that grace extends," Alex said.

"But you're becoming more than mortal," Klepto said. "Good. Tonight can be a trial-by-fire. Embrace your divine blood, Son of Tyr. Trust it."

The trip to the Westview Grand is uneventful.

After blundering into the question, 'So, what kind of music do you like?' the Furies treated Alex to an _a capella_ rendition of one of their songs, ending with Klepto putting a decided edge onto _It's A Small World_, punctuated with more of her drumstick kata.

The Furies weren't just warrior women out of some comic book adventure; they were much, much more … and woe to the opponent who thought otherwise.

Klepto and Orithia exited the limousine first, drawing a few appreciative whistles and 'I'm in Vegas!' phone cam shots. Alex was next, and he offered his hand to Phoebe, who seemed to take it, but barely brushed her fingers against Alex's palm. All of the women had the edge of soldiers on patrol who were expecting an ambush.

"Hey, North! NORTH!" someone shouted across the turnout.

Alex found himself tensing against an anticipated blow or gunshot, but saw Glenn Vernon waving at him.  
"I didn't think this was your scene," Vernon smiled.

"Once in a long while," Alex smiled. "Good to see you again, Mr. Vernon."

"Glenn."

"All right. Glenn. Celebrating?" Alex asked.

"Just a nice dinner out with the fam—"

The screech of burning rubber cut through the evening air, though it didn't draw too much notice - just another impatient sort cutting around the asshole in the limo.

Or, to be correct, heading straight towards him. It looked to be a used Ford Crown Victoria, the old standard for police cruisers — built in the days of solid steel frames and parts. And, on the passenger side, someone holding a pistol out the window, gangster-style.

Alex pivoted to face them squarely, despite his reflexes telling him to duck. A bullet grazed his side. Another shot caught him close to where he'd been shot the day before. A third slammed into the trauma plate. As he staggered and sank to one knee, two more shots missed him. And then the car was upon him.  
"ALEX!" roared Vernon. A woman was screaming, but it wasn't one of the Furies.

Phoebe tossed a side mirror onto the ground with a sneer of disgust. "Cowards."

Klepto had the gunman on the pavement, one drumstick laid across the young man's throat, and the other poised to stab downwards. Orithia was standing close to Alex's prone figure, her eyes scanning for additional threats.

Alex drew a hissing breath. His jacket has taken the brunt of the first shot. The second hurt like hell, but he knew he'd heal. The trauma plate caught the third. And he could already tell the cuts and abrasions from the car's undercarriage were healing.

Still, he lay there for several seconds. He flopped onto his back, and _that _hurt.

"Thank you, Father," he murmured.

"Prayers later, man," Glenn Vernon said as he knelt beside his friend. He pointed at one of the valets. "You, call 911!"

Alex looked up at his former client and coughed. "I'll be fine. Give me a second."

"You got shot and run over! Fine?" Vernon exclaimed before he noticed the outline of the ballistic vest pressing against Alex's shirt. "You're wearing a vest? Saved your life, man."

"Still hurts," Alex managed a weak smile. He sat up, laying a hand over one bullet hole and feigning a wheeze. He was whole and relatively unharmed. There were sirens wailing in the distance, either the police or the paramedics.

A short distance away, Hitoshi muttered an oath under his breath. North might not be his _responsibility_ , but he was another Scion. And, although they'd expected it, attacked on what was technically his front doorstep, an insult to any samurai's honor.

But North was on his own for the moment. Hitoshi was scanning the crowd for both additional threats, but something more. This was a public hit, the visibility meant as a threat to those involved and a mind-your-place to the mortals in general.

So there had to be someone taking pictures or video. Just another face in the crowd …

From her place in the crowd, Evie watches. Her lips press together in a grim line as she looks towards Alex, but he is well covered by the ladies. There's not much else for her to do, in that regard.

She runs forward, her phone already to her ear as she calls the hit in to the police station. To do anything else would seem abnormal. She scans the crowd, looking for other injured people who may have been hit by stray bullets...

But, mostly, she's looking for anything out of the ordinary. She's not necessarily looking for people taking photos, as Hitoshi is. In all honesty, that angle did not even occur to her.

Evie is not even sure exactly what she is looking for. All she knows is that she must watch. Someone, somewhere will fuck up if she just keeps an eye out...Maybe not now, at this time. But, at some point.

As people take note of Evie's presence, casino patrons begin offering her their cell phone videos and photos amid insistence that they saw it all. Others make sarcastic comments about, 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,' and turn away from the scene.

Alex is still sitting on the ground; Evie knows from personal experience that, even with a vest, getting shot is no picnic. But whatever knack Alex North has for soaking up damage seems to be working - for a man who was shot several times and then run over, he doesn't look any worse than a baseball player who slid home.

As the particulars of the crime scene begin resolving themselves in Evie's mind - she has an idea of where the car came from, and that it was a mid-size sedan - she begins to assess the reactions of others at the scene. Older couples who are shocked, even one or two who think it's part of a Hollywood movie shoot. Casino security employees are forming a loose cordon, keeping people from tromping through an area where there might be tire prints or debris that would be of use to the police.

Perhaps five yards away, there's a man standing at the far edge of the turnout. He's wearing a simple shirt and jacket, both black, but clearly tailored. He is standing with his hands clasped before him, simply watching the scene.

But it is _what_ he is watching that makes him stand out. He studies Alex for a moment, then each of the Furies standing nearby. He scans the crowd, and you know he's looking right at Hitoshi Ryder. Another brief turn, and he's observing Lya Bach and the fourth member of her band.

And then he looks straight at Evie, making eye contact.

Hitoshi slowly makes his way through the crowd, maneuvering so that he comes up behind the man with the camera. Once he's behind him he smiles. "Excuse me sir, but you seem to be at the best position to get evidence on what happened to Mr. North over there. You need to come and talk to the Authorities."

"Authorities?" the photographer asks. "I'm not just handing this over. Had that happen to a friend once, police took his camera, came back, everything was wiped, stuff was broken. Nuh-uh. You keep your mitts to yourself."

Hitoshi's smile fades. "Look pal, either you can go over to that detective over there and show her what you have, or I can call her over here and she can arrest you as an accomplice to the whole thing and they take your camera anyways. Granted the accusation won't stick, but who knows what would happen to your camera in the police impound." He snarls pointing out Evie.

"Whoa! I didn't do nothing!" the man says, still playing keep-away with his camera, holding it out of your immediate reach. "Cop lady over there asks, fine. You, who are you, one of the valets?"

"No, I'm not. Now. You WILL follow me over to her." Hitoshi uses a little bit of his power, now fully annoyed with the man.

"Yeah ... sure ..." the man says blankly.

You walk over to Evie Cartwright, who is still surveying the scene ...

"Officer Cartwright, this man has Some pictures to show you. I believe he was in the best spot to see what happened." Hitoshi nods at evie.

Gunshots. Squealing tires. Screams.

Phoebe makes to rip off the driver's side door, but only ends up with a side mirror for her efforts. She casts it aside.

Kleptoleme simply takes hold of the shooter's arm and shoulder as the car speeds away, and yanks the shooter out of the passenger side window. He lands on the pavement, winded. Reflexively, his gun is being brought to bear, but one of Klepto's drumsticks whistles through the air to strike the man's wrist.  
The Glock falls from a hand gone numb from a nerve strike.

"You're crazy, bitch! Fucking pull me outta the car window!"

"It's where we take you next that you should be worried about," says Orithia. "Goodnight, Sweet Prince."

She hits the gunman with a cross-temple palm strike. His head lolls to one side.

Evie turns as Hitoshi approaches her. "Photos or video?"  
"Video," the man with the camera says, somewhat dazed.

_To clarify, Hitoshi and Evie have the photographer. Lya and the Furies have the shooter. The guy who was watching the Scions is standing across the way at the turnout._

"All right, we're a go," Lya says to Toxic as she witnesses the altercation go down. "Let them know and then we'll go through the casino and get this guy in through the back."

Toxic whistles and nods to Phoebe, who nods in affirmation. "This man obviously needs first aid," she says as she looks meaningfully at Orithia and Klepto. "Let's get him the attention he deserves."

"If only," Orithia jokes as she bends down and she and Klepto put one arm each of the unconscious gang member around their shoulders. "Your carriage awaits."

Phoebe watches the crowd for any trouble as Klepto and Orithia weave through the crowd to get to the back alley of the casino where Lya and Toxic will let them in.

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir." she takes the phone and quickly checks to see if the man has a Dropbox app.

Seeing that he doesn't, she takes a second to download it. Evie has a spare Dropbox that she uses to shuffle inane stuff around. There is nothing of consequence in it. She connects to that and plops tonight's videos into it.

She then makes sure that she logs out and deletes the Dropbox app. She makes a mental note to delete that whole account once she gets home.

She nods to Hitoshi as she hands the camera back to the man, leaving the video untouched. Unfortunately, she doesn't feel like she can delete it without drawing ire. The police have been targeted too often for messing with people's videos...deleting them, confiscating phones, etc. To delete something _might_ give someone, even the Lobos, a reason to call foul.

Gently, she nudges Hitoshi in the ribs and nods her head towards the man in the tailored suit.

The man observing Evie, Hitoshi, and the others gives a faint smile that touches mostly his eyes. Some might qualify it as a mischievous glimmer. He gives a hat-tip style gesture.

At that moment, an ambulance pulls into the turnout, the paramedics emerging to unload a stretcher and see to Alex North, blocking the mystery man from view.

Hitoshi nods at the man signaling he had seen him. "Yea, I see him now. Lets go have a quick chat shall we?" He starts strolling over toward the man but is cutoff by the ambulance as it pulls up, forcing him to go around.

"All right, lets get him back to the Security office and secure him before he wakes up," Lya says as she holds open the back door to Orithia and Klepto. They follow inside as Toxic checks the alleyway for anyone observing them before following along behind.

Hitoshi makes his way around the ambulance, but when he does, the man is no longer in view. Which is odd in one sense, as there's still a crowd pointing and murmuring, with no 'ripple' in the crowd to show where the man might have gone.

It's considerably more disturbing from the perspective that this is an affair of gods and their scions, with the _Manada de Lobos_ little more than foot soldiers and patsies.

"Excuse me," Hitoshi asks one couple. "Looking for a man, about 5'10", clean-cut, wearing a black suit?"

"No, sorry, haven't seen anyone like that," the man says. "I heard Vegas was exciting, but I never expected this!"

Meanwhile, Alex is trying to disentangle himself from the paramedics, who have him sitting on the gurney.

"Look, I'm okay. I was wearing a vest," Alex says.

"Patient responsive, pulse steady," one paramedic relays to his partner. He flicks a penlight at Alex's eyes. "Pupils reactive. No indication of concussion. Sir, if you'll sit quietly for a second, I'd like to take your blood pressure."

"When you're satisfied I shouldn't be under a yellow tarp, can I go?"

"Just breathe normally, please. No talking for a moment," says the paramedic. "BP 120 over 80. Take a deep breath, please, Sir? Any pain?"

"No, no pain, no tightness," Alex said, which wasn't entirely true. He'd been in considerable pain a few minutes ago, but that was fading, and not because he was lapsing into shock.

"Who's the officer-in-charge?" the paramedic asked. "Hey, Pete, who's OIC?"

The police officer glanced around. "Looks like it's Cartwright. Problem?"

"Victim's fine. Looks like his jacket and vest took the brunt of it," said the paramedic. "No reason to take him to General."

"Twice in as many days. You're a lucky bastard, North," the officer said. "Yo, Evie! You wanna talk to Superman, over here, or can we let him go?"

Evie's brow furrows once she sees that the mystery man has disappeared,_Not good. Not good, at all._

Granted, it's always a possibility that the man isn't an enemy. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time to see things go down and happens to be a scion or other agent of an uninvolved god. But, really...what are the odds of that? Evie snorts softly to herself, _Not bloody likely._

Upon hearing the officer call out, Evie makes her way to Alex's side where he sits impatiently upon the gurney. She knows that she has to make a show of it, to seem like things are normal. Well, normal-ish. As normal as it can be when a man has been attacked twice in two days.

_Nope. No god business going on here, guys. Move along. Nothing to see._

"Jesus, North," she shakes her head. "Who did you piss off?"

She stands by the gurney and seems to think for a second, "You can go. I doubt you saw anything that isn't going to show up in the various videos and pictures that are appearing on the web even as we speak. BUT...I am going to want to speak to you as soon as you feel like it. You've obviously riled up someone. Maybe someone who lost to you and doesn't like it."

She gently claps him on the shoulder, taking care not to cause anymore pain (even though she's not even sure he even is still in pain), "Do you want us to put someone on watch at your house or work?"

Klepto and Orithia set the unconscious Lobo into a chair with a thud as Lya looks around the office for something to restrain the guy with. "Where's a pair of handcuffs when you need them," she mutters as Toxic enters the room.

"A warrior knows how to improvise," Toxic replies as she quickly undoes her belt and uses it to bind his arms to the chair while Orithia searches him for any other weapons with a look of distaste.

"Ugh... just because they worship dogs doesn't mean they have to _smell_ like them."

"What would I do without you guys?" Lya asks with a smile as she sits on the edge of the desk and whips out her flask for a drink.

"The answer to that is something I never want to have to tell your father," replies Klepto as she gestures for the flask and takes a sip. "So now we wait for Hitoshi?"

"Or for him to wake up... whichever comes first," Lya replies.

"I hope he's a light sleeper," chuckles Orithia.

"Hmm. I wonder ... I just cleared Mr. Vernon, there, of a burglary charge. Wonder if I put some heat on someone else as a result," says Alex. "I don't think I need a round-the-clock detail, Detective, but I sure wouldn't mind a patrol car making an occasional circuit."

"I think I'll have to retire this vest. Maybe even upgrade to a Class III," Alex shakes his head. "Jacket's a write off. Bullet graze, torn up from the car's undercarriage ..."

He gets off the gurney without any apparent discomfort. "If you need a statement, give me a call tomorrow. I think I'm going to go inside, have a nice dinner, and court some friendlier odds."

Evie nods, "Well, good luck. Hopefully, you've used up all the bad mojo for one night!"

She then moves back into the crowd and does her job, taking statements from people and helping to calm the crowd.

She trusts Lya and Hitoshi to take care of the Lobos member. For now, she needs to simply play her role.

Phoebe walks up to Alex with a nod as he's sitting on the gurney. "Alex, I would be honored to escort you. I know where all the fun is happening inside."

The shooter has an extra magazine in his pocket, as well as a serviceable knife.

"Black Talons," Orithia notes, looking at the bullets. They're pre-fragmented rounds designed to tear through body armor and flesh, banned in most areas as, 'cop killer' rounds. "Alex should be on his way to Valhalla."

"Ick. Sweaty boy wallet," Toxic says. "Ramon Gutierrez, age 17. Street address, probably his parents' house. A couple hundred bucks here, didn't get _that_ from flipping burgers. Does he have a phone, Or?"

"On the table. Probably selfies of himself flexing and trying to look badass."

"My being on the casino floor will draw attention somewhere else," Alex says to Phoebe. "Lya has my number if you learn anything interesting. Thank you ... and your bandmates for watching out for me."

Lya takes a swig from her flask and puts it back into her interior coat pocket before picking up the phone off the table. "It's been my experience that gangs like to keep proof of their deeds as a way to show off to the others. It's the digital version of 'Who's got the bigger dick.' Let's see if our boy was even smart enough to lock his phone..."

The shooter's smartphone comes to life with the standard prompt for a four-digit PIN. Lya tries some simple combinations on a whim: 5626 (LOBO), 4264 (GANG), and 5333 (JEFE). None of these work.

"Pull his shirt off," she says. "I want to see his ink."  
Orithia obliges. The shooters tattoos are a blend of professional ink and the faded look of prison specials, the usual mix of guns, garishly adorned skulls, and area codes. A couple of pin-up girls and snakes adorn one arm, but it's the fan of cards above one skull that draws Lya's attention.  
She taps out 2737 (ASES), Spanish for 'aces,' but also part of 'asesino,' assassin.

The phone unlocks.

"Bingo!" exclaims Lya as she opens the phone. "Let's see what he's got in his photos, shall we? Still not waking up, eh?"

Orithia shrugs. "Guess he's a deep sleeper after all."

It's the usual. Cars, selfies with the girlfriend, _los hermanos_, guns ... and an assortment of photos that would likely implicate him in several assaults and shootings.

That includes a photo of Alex from what looks to be just outside his office, a photo of yourself and the Furies outside the Dive, and a photo of Hitoshi's torn up front lawn. There's not a photo of Evie, but if she just had her visitation, whoever is directing the gang may not have come up with a reason to add her to the list.

"Mmummff," Gutierrez mumbles, beginning to regain consciousness.

"Hitoshi's wanting to go all medieval on his ass...but I've got an idea," Lya says as she grabs her sharpie and writes something on a piece of paper off the desk. "Everybody in close for a selfie!"

She kneels next to the unconscious thug and holds up a piece of paper on his chest that says "He told us everything!" as she sticks her tongue out at the camera and the others gather around with big grins and various hand gestures. The camera flashes and Lya smiles at the picture now on the lobo's phone. "Perfect! Now to check his phone history and see who I can send this to if he doesn't talk..."

Hitoshi heads inside through the front of the Casino so that anyone that knows him will assume he's inside with the bigwigs. Making his way through the crowd he makes it to a stairwell and after looking around to make sure no one that matters sees him, he ducks inside and heads down to the basement, ducking out into the machine room. Inside the generators and laundry machines are loud and noisy. Kneeling down he picks up a large paper sack full of tools and items he bought hours before. With half the lights out, it's rather dark, but he knows exactly where he is going as he weaves his way between the equipment and opens the door to the Security room and steps inside. The room was where security roughed over those people caught cheating at the casino before they were handed to the cops.

"Alex is fine, and Officer Cartwright is in charge of the scene." He sets the sack down on a table and starts laying the items out. The first is rope, the second a boxcutter, then lemons, rubbing alcohol, salt, bleach, plastic sheeting, duct tape, pliers, bottled water, a screwdriver, a plastic apron, rubber gloves, finally a soldering iron. Picking up the plastic sheeting and the duct tape he works in silence taping it up over the walls and out onto the floor. Finally he looks over at the chair the man is on. Dragging over another chair he uses the screwdriver to loosen and take off the back of the chair leaving just the risers.

"Ladies, you are better at knots than I am. Secure him to that. I want his back exposed with nothing for him to lean against.. Oh, and make it tight... Please."

"We already have him tied up." Toxic says.

'I know, and you did a wonderful job, but in the chair he's in, he's comfortable, and we wouldn't want than now would we?" Hitoshi replies with a grin.

Toxic grins back. "On second thought, no we wouldn't." It takes her and the girls mere moments to retie the man to the new chair. Hitoshi walks over and after putting on the apron and gloves opens a bottle of water. Taking a quick swig he dumps the rest over the head of the ganger. "And now the fun."

He leans in close. "Wakey wakey."

The shooter - there's no mistake that he's the trigger man - sputters as the cold water snaps him back to wakefulness. The way the room is lit - a sharp cone of bright light above the subject, surrounded by shadow - is a classic interrogation setting.

"I ain't tellin' you nothing, police-man," he snarls. He struggles a bit as he notices the ... implements ... arranged on the table beside him. "Whoa, hey, that's _illegal_."

Hitoshi chuckles a low, evil chuckle. "police? Police? Hey Toxic, you see any police here?"

"Nope, no Cops here." Toxic replies. She looks over at Klepto. "Hey Klep, any cops around?"

"The only cop I know of are out on the street." Klemto says.

Hitoshi look back at the man. "Seems we are fresh outa cops round here man. What we do have is four pissed off women, Lya, and Me." He pulls the chair that the man was originally in up behind the man but doesn't sit down yet.

"mmm, Nice ink you got there, but it's crap compared to what the Yakuza wear. Now, I'm going to give you one chance to spill your guts and save yourself a world of pain. After that well... as you said, all that stuff IS illegal."

"You work for the 'kuza?" the shooter says. "But everyone says you hate the gangs."

He glances about the room, trying to figure out an escape route, sees nothing that isn't covered with plastic sheeting. Klepto is standing in the background doing her drumstick kata again. Twirl. Slash. Stab. Twirl.

"I ain't telling you nothing," he repeats stubbornly.

Hitoshi snorts. "No, I don't work for the yakuza." When the man says he won't answer Hitoshi shrugs and grabs the bleach, lemons, Salt, and Boxcutter, and sits down behind the man.

"I'm gonna tell you a story so I want you to pay attention. It's about one of my Run ins with the Yakuza a few years ago, and just what they did to me."

He pulls out a sharpie marker and starts outlining the mans tattoo's. Leaning forwads he speaks real low in the man's ear. "After that, I'm going to do you a favor and get rid of some of this horrible ink on your back. Sadly though, it's gonna hurt like hell, and I don't have any Novocaine."

He nods at Lya at this point.

"You've got to forgive my friends... Hitoshi went through a lot in Japan that he never talked about because it was so painful.." Lya visibly shudders as she walks into view holding his phone, "and my friends are excited at the thought of finally seeing a demonstration. Me, I'm not nearly so bloodthirsty... I just ask real nice and people do it for me." she turns the camera around to show him the picture she took earlier. "Like your friends for example. I'm sure they don't look well on snitches, do they? So you see...you've got 3 choices: you could justifiably break under torture and tell us what we want to know... you could be all tough and take the pain and torture that Hitoshi is going to put you through and still not tell us anything, only to be killed by your own gang after I send this to everyone in your phone history... or you could tell us what we need to know, share a drink with me, and then go on your merry way." she pulls the flask out from her coat with her other hand and gives it a shake. "Perfectly aged rum... what do you say?"

"Right. So you're my friend, _chica_? You gonna protect me from _el loco cabron_ over there?" the shooter sneers. He spits at you. "Fuck you."

Lya takes a drink and leans in towards the ganger. "I'm the only friend you have right now, _pendejo..._ and trust me when I say this..." she takes another sip and looks pointedly down at his crotch before she looks him in the eyes, "You're not going to be able to fuck _anything_ when he's done."

She leans back and returns to sitting on the desk where she starts messing with his phone again. "Let's see... you've got a Facebook account? Of course you do... who doesn't?" she looks up at the ganger and grins. "And oh... you were kind enough to leave yourself logged in, too! I think everyone's just going to love your new profile picture. Now... how do I change your status to 'Dead Man Walking?'"

"Yeah, you do that. Let all my boys know what you look like," the shooter smirks. "Only walking dead will be you people."

"I'm a musician, dude... if everybody didn't know what I looked like by now, then my PR man wouldn't be doing a very good job, would he?" Lya smirks. "You did get one thing right though...we'll be the only ones walking after this."

He gives a short, barking laugh. "You wish. _El Jefe_, he's in with powerful people. You? You'll be street pizza like your lawyer friend."

Hitoshi's fist crashes against the man's jaw.

"Manners dude, apparently your mother taught you none. Now. Since you were dumb enough to NOT take my friend's kind offer, you get to deal with me."

Hitoshi picks up the boxcutter and pour rubbing alcohol on the blade to sterilize it. Then he starts swabbing the man's back with the remaining alcohol.

"We don't want any of this getting infected, that would be inhumane."

He looks over at the band. "Ladies, I know you have seen a lot on the field of battle, but this won't be pretty. If you wish to leave, please do so now."

"You hit like a girl," the shooter sneers. He adopts a bad Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation. "Are you a girly man?"

"He doesn't know what we used to do to ourselves, does he?" whispers Phoebe to Klepto as they lean against the wall in the shadows.

"I was as surprised as you were that we had two of these again once we were summoned," Klepto quietly replies as she briefly cups her chest.

"In other words... do what you will, Hitoshi... we're not squeamish," Toxic replies.

"Start with the fingers, Hitoshi," suggests Lya after taking another drink from her flask. "Once you start with flaying a man, it's kind of hard to top that... you know?"

"I'm saving those for a necklace for Toxic." Hitoshi jokes. Then he sighs, and all emotion drains from his face.

"Now, I keep promising you a story man, and I haven't yet delivered." He picks up the boxcutter and starts lightly scratching lines on the man's shoulders. The lines are not very deep, they barely draw blood.

"A few years ago I had a run in with the Yakuza while visiting japan..."

"What jeffe? Thats it? I get worse scratched than that fucking my bitch!"

Hitoshi's fist crashes against the man's jaw again.

"I'm not yet done. Anyways, they started out small as well. Tied me to a chair just like you are. The only difference was my best friend from childhood was forced to watch as they made these same cuts. Now here's the interesting part. These cuts are mere annoyances, however..."

He picks up a lemon and cuts it in half rubbing it against the cuts.

"This stings like a bitch."

"Ow! Fuck you Cabron! That all you got?" The ganger winces.

Hitoshi picks up the boxcutter again. "No, I'm just doing as my friend asks and starting small. Now where were we? Oh yes. I had nearly the same reaction. Lemon juice stings, but it's not enough. Thats okay. I have better stuff." Picking up the duct tape he cuts a good size strip off of it.

"I, I thought you wanted me to talk!" The ganger's eyes go wide and Hitoshi leans in close.

"Yes, yes I do, but not right now. Later you will talk." He seals the man's mouth with the tape then sits back down. The ganger struggles and Hitoshi punches him in the kidneys.

"The Yakuza were nice enough to use an actual scalpel on me but I was in a hurry to pick this stuff up. The next thing they did was cut strips down my back."

Slowly he starts cutting down the man's back well enough to draw a good amount of blood. One slice, two slices. The ganger struggles and is clearly in pain as a tear falls down his cheek. Behind him a simultaneous tear falls from Hitoshi's cheek. After five cuts he stops cutting and picks up the bag of fine grain salt.

"After that they picked me up and laid me out on a bed of fine salt. Do you know what that does to those cuts? It gets into every crevice, every cut, and it so burns. Imagine every move you make grinding more and more salt against those cuts. Oh wait, you don't have to imagine."

He throws a handful of salt against the gangers back. The ganger arches in pain struggling to try and get away from the pain he was cause. He's now screaming behind the duct tape. Hitoshi waits until his struggles have stopped. He takes the knife again.

"Ready to talk?" He asks. The ganger just glares at him.

"Okay then. So as I was saying, When the salting was done, they moved on to something more caustic... Bleach." He looks around. "Will one of you ladies hand me the bottle of bleach on the table over there?"

Lya shakes her head. "I don't think that's what she meant by starting small, Hitoshi," says Toxic as she walks up to the man struggling in the chair and grabs his hand. "She said..." the man's pinky makes a sickening crunch as it suddenly bends in the wrong direction, "start... (crunch goes the middle finger)...with... (crunch goes his trigger finger) the fingers."

Hitoshi looks over at Toxic. "Lya has her ways, I have mine, and apparently you have yours. Nicely done."

He leans in to the ganger. "Now, I'm going to remove the tape, and these girls are going to ask you some questions. And remember, I can do shit like this all day. Hell, I'll even get creative."

He rips the tape off the ganger's mouth taking some mustache hairs along with it.

"That was for the one of you who slapped my ass," Toxic says seductively into his ear as she runs her fingers down his other arm towards his unbroken hand. "Want to see what I do to people who shoot at my friends?"

"Last chance, buddy..." Lya warns as she shakes her flask. "I'll bet a strong drink would be good about now, eh? Much better to have alcohol in your stomach than bleach on your back, I'm sure."

Behind the anger and defiance still flashing in the shooter's eyes, Hitoshi can also see the doubt beginning to creep in around the edges of the man's world. It's not the physical pain, of course - it's the pain felt in one's spirit, the black despair when the torture has stripped away everything else, and there's nothing left, just you, cold, naked, and alone. The fact that you failed yourself and the people who were depending upon you. And that there's no one riding over the hill to your rescue. You're it.

It's the bright line between life and death.

He's there.

Weakly, he shakes his head, then lets it fall.

"No mas," he whispers. "No more."

Hitoshi stands and slaps the ganger on the shoulder. "Smartest thing you have done all night." He steps around the man and sets the tools on the table and carefully strips off the apron and rubber gloves so as to not get any blood on his actual clothes.

"He's all yours ladies." With that said he heads out the door. It slams closed behind him, but a second later opens again.

"Hitoshi." Poebe's voice calls out and he stops.

"Yes?" He asks quietly.

"Was all that you said just now.. did it all really happen?"

Hitoshi is quiet for a moment. "Go ask Lya. She knows. Have a good night Phoebe."

"Okay, have a good night Hitoshi."

Hitoshi just waves with his left hand and starts walking again. Phoebe can see that his Left Pinky is shorter than it should be. Then he passes through the second set of doors and heads up to the Casino bar.

"Aww... killjoy," mutters Toxic as she stands up and rejoins the others against the wall.

"They just don't make them like they used to," laments Orithia.

Phoebe lets the door close and turns back to the others. "At least not this guy, anyway."

"Finally! One of these days somebody's going to take the drink offer first," Lya sighs as she hops off the desk. "Now as promised... I'm sure your voice is a bit hoarse after all the screaming." she nods to Orithia who grabs the back of the guy's head and holds it back so Lya can carefully pour some of the rum into his mouth.

"So tell me about El Jefe and why you want to kill Mr. North so much."

"The lawyer? El Jefe's friends want him out of the way. We take care of that, we get rewarded," the shooter says.

"Is that the only person you've been contracted to hit by this El Jefe? What does El Jefe look like? Has he ever said more about his actual name or who his friends are?"

"Mario? We call him _El Jefe_, but, you know, he's just the guy who picked up the pieces from ... before," the shooter says. "You understand, this gringo in a suit comes along, talks a line about helping us score, we figure he's full of shit. Told him to fuck off. Guy just smiles and hands Mario a business card, says it might come in handy.

"And then Esteban, I don't know what happened to him, man. One night, he just went crazy. I mean _loco_. Not drunk. Out-of-his-mind crazy. Some of us tried peyote once, this was way worse. He was raving about how the End of All Things was coming, and we needed to pick sides.

"He blew his brains out, man. Boom, right in front of us, ate a bullet.

"Mario kept it all locked down, kept us from losing our shit. And I guess he figured if the other gangs heard about Esteban going cuckoo, we'd be the whipping boys. Turf war.

"So Mario calls this gringo, calls himself Mr. Lyman, who says he wants local talent. I seen him that one time, and it didn't look like he needed help. Bunch of serious Arnolds backing him up, driving his car. But he pays really fucking well. I mean high roller, whale-level stuff. Got some diamonds for my girlfriend, not fuckin' JewelryMart crap, either.

"But every now and then, the word comes down. Place needs to be hit, someone needs persuading. Your lawyer friend must be on his shit list. We don't ask questions. We do the job, and we get paid."

"Phoebe, would you check on Hitoshi? Unless I miss my guess he's probably in the bar." Phoebe nods and quietly leaves the room.

Lya takes another swig from her flask before walking over to the prisoner. "I'm going to offer you another drink before I tell you about your friend Esteban."

The gang member nods warily and then leans his head back as Lya pours some more rum down his throat. She waits until he swallows before she continues. "You see... your friend Esteban saw the truth of it: the end of the world IS coming...at least according to one religion... and you guys are helping the side wanting it to happen. Esteban had an attack of good conscience and just couldn't take it any more. " She takes another drink. "So what about you? Are you looking to have a life with your girlfriend...or are you more interested in the quick cash before the world burns and takes you with it?"

"The End of the World, for real? Like all those crazy preachers on the television?" the shooter scoffs. "It's all talk so you put money in the basket. What are you going to tell me that will convince me Esteban wasn't on drugs?"

"I'm not saying that Esteban probably wasn't on drugs... but ask yourself this... why would I lie to you?" Lya replies as she gets up and paces in front of him. "My band and I like to sing, drink, and have a good time... not sit in back rooms in the dark and threaten peoples lives. There's no honor in it... no fun in it... " she stops in front of him and jabs a finger in his chest as the Furies murmur in agreement. "But fuck me if I won't do what needs to be done to keep this world kicking, buddy... and right now that means keeping my new lawyer friend alive."

She steps back and leans against the desk. "This isn't going to be on TV with some lady with a giant bouffant crying for cash. You've _seen_ it... it's all around us, dude. Haven't you noticed the world going to shit? People not caring about each other... killing each other over shoes or bad grades... wars all over the world that never seem to end... you'll ignore it and say 'Oh that's just the way the world is...' but in reality that's the way the world has _become_... until one day..." she slams her hand against the desk, "BOOM! Those missiles aimed at Russia get launched because it turns out that name on the list that you happened to 'take care of' was going to be an influential diplomat that wasn't there to stop fucking World War III."

She takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh. "Do you get me?"

"What do I care? World hasn't given me shit, lady. Shitty public housing. Shitty schools. People I don't know tell me to speak English when I use a Spanish word. My mom's a fucking housekeeper at a place like this, cleaning rooms just to scrape by.

"Get a job? Get a haircut. Cover up your ink. Use the back entrance. It's all bullshit to keep minorities in their place," he says angrily. "Cleanin' up after the rest of you.

"So bring it. End of the World? Maybe the next one will give a shit about us."

"The World doesn't give a shit about anyone... and why should it?" exclaims Klepto in frustration as she steps out of the shadows. "You walk around thinking you deserve life handed to you on a silver platter... it's _pathetic._ Until you grow some damn balls and make your life your own in spite of the world, all you'll ever be is a lowly pawn in someone else's power struggle... in this world AND the next." Klepto spits at his feet.

"Yeah... I think we're done here," Lya sighs in disappointment. "Orithia... if you would?"

"Once a dog... always a dog," she mutters before she strikes his temple and knocks him unconscious.

"We'll gag him and make sure he's immobile in here before I call Evie and let her know where she can pick up her shooter."

Lya slides open her phone and fiddles with the ganger's phone for a moment. "Wouldn't want to lose such a wonderful photo now would I? I think I'll make it my lock screen on my phone," she jokes to the others. She fishes Evie's business card out of her back pocket and starts dialing. "Evening Officer," she begins once it's answered. "My band and I seem to have run into a rather dubious character fleeing the scene of the shooting tonight, and we wanted to let you know where you could pick him up for processing."

"Is everyone all right?"

"Yes...yes... though the foolish man did try to attack Toxic... so he might have a broken finger or two..." she scratches her head, "...okay, maybe three."

"We'll make sure he's taken care of, Ms. Bach."

"Excellent. Have a good night, Officer." with that Lya hangs up her phone and smiles at the others as she puts her phone away and wipes down the ganger's phone with her shirt before putting it in his back pocket.

"I think that's a wrap for tonight, guys. Who's up for a drink or three in the casino?"


	8. Pre-Show Jitters

(Friday Evening / Pre-Performance)

As with most casinos, there was a selection of truly excellent restaurants. Of course, you had to cross the floor and the inviting sights and sounds of the gaming tables. Alex had enjoyed an occasional weekend night at the casinos when he first arrived in town, but had, like many Vegas residents, ultimately become inured to the illusion of becoming an instant millionaire.

As Alex was shown to his table at a restaurant affiliated with a celebrity chef, he was approached by a woman wearing a conservative business suit bearing a cloisonne pin featuring the Westview Grand logo.

Her nametag identified her as _K. Ryder, Operations Manager_ . Hitoshi's mother, then.

"Good evening, Mr. North," she said, smiling pleasantly. "I'm Karen Ryder, Casino Operations Manager here at the Westview Grand. I wanted to apologize for the unpleasantness earlier this evening."

"Thank you, Ms. Ryder, but the Westview isn't responsible for any of that," Alex reassured her.

"Nonetheless, we're pleased that you weren't seriously injured, and the Westview will be comping your meal this evening. It's a small courtesy, but we want to make it clear that you and your guests are welcome here."

"I appreciate the gesture, Ms. Ryder, but it's not necessary. I just came here for a nice meal and perhaps some Blackjack."

Ryder smiled. "Then we'll do everything we can to make sure your visit is a pleasant one."

Which, fortunately, included telling news crews to wait outside of the restaurant out of respect for the other guests.

"Do you ... ah ... are you hungry?" he asked Phoebe.

She laughed. "Don't tiptoe, Alex. We're not made of glass."

"Hardly that."

"Warriors know how to celebrate, because they dance on the edge of life and death," Phoebe told him. "The petite-cut filet will do. Rare. A glass of the Domaine Chandon, perhaps."

Most of the news crews had left by the time Alex and Phoebe were done with their meal. They were probably chasing a fire or, with luck, an arrest or three in connection with the shooting.

"Alex!" called out the one photographer who was left. The kid had served as a Combat Photographer in the Army, and considered Alex as a brother-in-arms.

"Evening, Mark. Slow news day?" Alex laughed.

"Just some penny-ante lawyer getting shot outside a casino," Mark shot back.

"Please tell me you're just here for b-roll."

"Yeah. Although Megan left me a list of questions if you want to go on record ...?"

"Not particularly. Okay, here, you can take some pretty pictures of my jacket, and me walking down the hall. Leave the young lady out of things, please."

"I'm going to go find my sisters," Phoebe said, further assuring that she would not end up on videotape, nor the band receive negative publicity.

"Okay," Alex said. "Have fun."

"She's hot," Mark noted. "When did you start dating supermodels, Ell-Tee?"

"Would you believe she's just a friend?"

"And she's got sisters?"

"And they all have really high standards," Alex said seriously.

"Damn, you sound like their big brother."

"I think someone else has that job."

"Cop outside said you were wearing a vest," the photographer remarked.

"Yeah," Alex confirmed. He undid one shirt button to show the vest. However, he hadn't realized one round was still embedded in the trauma plate over his vitals. The slug had the distinctive petals of a 'cop killer' round, and both men recognized it.

Mark gave a low whistle. Alex knew what the photographer was thinking as he pulled back from his viewfinder and glanced at the other two bullet holes in Alex's shirt. If they'd been firing that kind of round, Alex's insides should be all over the driveway.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I'll cut around that, man. But I want the story."

"When I can give it to you, Mark. Maybe even _if_ I can give it to you. It's not something you want to get mixed up in."

"Hint received."

Alex winced at remembered pain. For a moment, he hoped his ability to heal wasn't a question of _believing_ he could, and that, if he doubted or stopped believing, all of his wounds would come back in full force.

He prised the slug free of the trauma plate, folded it into his hand and then into his jacket pocket. It wasn't a question of wearing a vest - the moment someone in forensics got a look at the slug, the moment a police officer examined the shooter's weapon, there would be questions. Dumping the bullet and the vest would make no difference. This kind of bullet was designed specifically to penetrate body armor and wreak grievous injury. And what would the _Manada de Lobos_ try next? Believing he'd had a vest on during the robbery, they'd upgraded to 'cop killer' bullets. It was doubtful the gang had a trained sniper in their ranks, but a burst from an TEC-9 or Uzi might do the trick. Or an IED.

Maybe it was time to take Clemens up on his offer and join the DA's office as an ADA.

"Be sure the turnout is made presentable for tomorrow's meeting of the Board of Directors," Karen Ryder instructed her executive assistant. "There's no keeping the ... accident ... out of the news, but we don't want anything detracting from the front of the house. Sidewalk swept, anything that's broken gets replaced or removed, landscaping to lay new turf or plants. If there are any blood stains, they get steam-cleaned. And not a scrap of crime scene tape, not even peeking out of a trash receptacle."

"Yes, Ms. Ryder."

"Please tell me the limousine wasn't damaged."

"It wasn't, Ma'am."

"Good. Have the limousine and driver available for the board members. Guests can use the backup."

"On it."

Ryder believed the reason she'd been promoted was the _precise_ manner in which she conducted her affairs. It wasn't enough to be capable; one had to define the word _exceeds_ on performance reviews.

She saw the Westview Grand as one of the pre-eminent casinos on the Strip, and that was because on her watch, everything was squared away and ship shape. She was aware, of course, that some of her employees called her a bitch behind her back, styling her as anal retentive and OCD, but they were in their place, and she in hers.

Alex stopped by one of the stores on the casino's promenade. You could get anything from jeans to Armani, though the jeans would likely be designer label and 'pre-stressed'. He availed himself of a black polo shirt _sans_ logo (and the designer price tag), and a black sportcoat. His vest, dress shirt, and leather jacket were folded up, tucked in a bag, and handed over to the coat check.

"I'll take those, Mr. North," Evie Cartwright said. "Evidence."  
"Um, yeah. Of course," Alex said. "Hey, I found this on the ground outside, don't know if it's important."

He opened his hand to show Evie the 'cop killer' round he'd pried out of his trauma plate.  
"I'm not a CSI, but I didn't want to throw it away, either," he lied.

"Ah! Thanks, I'll take care of it," Evie says. Much like Alex, she has no intention of handing it over to the authorities. It would raise too many questions. Instead, it will be neatly tucked away in her apartment, somewhere, and she will claim that she found it. Somewhere. At some time. She can come up with plausibly vague details, later.

She pulls out her phone and fiddles with it, giving her an excuse to have her head down. Though she has no reason to fear anyone or anything in the casino, well... _Better safe than sorry._

As she messes with some random app, she says softly, her words meant for Alex alone, "There was a visitor at the accident who seemed very interested in our group. He took little notice of anything except us. Alone, apart, tailored suit, little smirk...made and held eye contact with me. He knows."

"Another Scion, perhaps? On the other team?" Alex mused. "So they know who we are, but not the other way around. Damn. I hate working blind. It'd be nice to have a break for our side."

"Maybe," Evie answers quietly. "It seems like the most likely answer. Tell you what, let's all meet somewhere more private later, and we can all brainstorm. I don't know what Lya and Hitoshi have learned. Maybe they have some more information that could shed some light on things."

"The lights never go out on the Strip," Alex smiles. "I'll hit the tables for a bit, but probably end up in the Billiard Room. I used to do that in Law School, it helped me focus."

"Ah! Billiards...that's mine and Saul's preferred after work relaxation. Well, on those rare days when we actually have free time at the same time. It's not like it was when we were teenagers and could doink around whenever we wanted," Evie chuckles. "I may hit you up for a game, later."

"A round of pool would be fun," Alex nodded.

Despite a friendly table and a charming dealer, the Blackjack tables held only limited appeal. The buzz of activity, slots chiming as someone hit a jackpot, shouts of victory ... none of the energy transferred to Alex. Instead, the press of the crowd made him feel edgy, not only because he was scanning the crowd for threats, but because the casino floor was packed with innocent bystanders. He rather sympathized with 'Wild Bill' Hickok, who had a marked distaste for leaving his back to a door. (And, who, because he'd really wanted in on one game, did so anyway ... and got shot in the back while holding Aces and Eights.)

After an hour of mediocre gameplay - he was ahead by less than $40 - Alex decided a drink was in order. Then, perhaps, some pool - in the hopes that a favorite pastime would take some of the edge off of his jangled nerves. He hadn't felt this twitchy since being in an active combat zone.

" _Konbawa,_ " the bartender smiled. "What may I get for you?"

"Scotch. A double of Macallan 25, if you have it, please," Alex said, sliding some bills across the bar.

"Here you go, Sir," said Mishii. "A double of Macallan 25."

Alex leaned against the bar, fighting the urge to watch the door and scan the crowd ...

Alex tossed the Scotch down, ordered another. The bartender had seen plenty of gamblers come off the floor for a drink to take the edge off their losses, so a man who'd survived an attempted drive-by was certainly entitled.

The billiard room, bearing the moniker _The Corner Pocket_, was an upscale pool hall, more of a club atmosphere than a 'T-which-rhymes-with-P-and-that-stands-for-Pool' setting. Players had access to a full bar and an assortment of finger foods suited to playing - nothing with messy sauces or coatings that would get on the tables or cues.

Alex told the hostess that he'd be here for a while. He was prepared to spend time looking for a reasonably straight cue, found that the _Pocket_ took care that its cues weren't warped or bent from people using them as leaning posts and walking sticks.

He set a rack of 9-Ball and began his game.

Alex was several games in when his cell phone rang. Vibrated, actually, as he habitually had the ringer off so as not to run afoul of courtroom etiquette. To Alex's dismay, the faceplate now had a crack spidering down from one corner.

He recognized the number; it was Christopher Clemens, the District Attorney.

"North."

"Alex! Glad to hear you're all right," Clemens said.

"A bit sore, but I'll take that over a sucking chest wound any day."

"I'm sure I don't need to sell you on an anti-gang initiative, but that's in the pipe," Clemens said. "If you're available tomorrow, let's have lunch."

"Saturday?"

"It's business, but I don't want it to be _business_," Clemens said. "Saturday lets it be less formal, and neither one of us will be dashing off to court or fielding a phone call from the Mayor."

Alex had an inkling as to what this was about, but didn't want to slam the door on the DA.

"Okay, lunch. Where and when?"

"Country Club. Noonish. Just give them my name."

"See you then, Chris."

Eventually, Evie decides that nothing more is going to happen and starts making her way to the pool room. She realizes that she is bone-tired. Between all the running around and investigating earlier and the excitement this evening, she's been going pretty much non-stop and it's starting to catch up with her.

She enters the room and spots Alex at one of the tables, already in the midst of a game. Wandering over to his table, she finds a seat against a wall and flops into it. She lets her head fall back and rest against the hard wall for a moment and the temptation to close her eyes and sleep is strong. Evie sits back up, rubs her face and shucks out of her bulletproof vest, setting it in a seat beside her.

"Oh gawd, that feels better," she sighs, delighted to be out of the hot gear. "I know that I am sweaty and unpresentable under it but...screw that."

She grins and gestures towards the table, "How's the game going?"

"I think I'm winning," Alex smiles. He lines up a rail shot. His cue taps the cue ball just so, and the 4-Ball rolls neatly into a corner pocket, while the cue ball stops short of following it in for a scratch. Still, it doesn't leave him with the best angle on the 5-Ball. "At the very least, I'm not losing."

"Can I buy you something to drink? Soda, mineral water, if you're still on duty."

Evies, smiling, waves off the offer of a drink, "Nah. I just finished a coke. I'm fine. Thanks, though."

She stands and looks down at the table, "Looks like you are doing pretty well! But, this is coming from me. I always lose at pool. Love the game, but I stink at it so...take my word for what it's worth."

Evie grins and then starts to laugh quietly, "One time, I accidentally started a brawl. I was off-duty, Ricky (that's one of my brothers) and I were playing, and there was this group of people in the bar who didn't know me."

"Now, the regulars...they know my 'talent' with a pool cue, so any of them would've laughed off what happened..."

She shakes her head and continues, "Anyway, I'm getting off track. So, I'm leaned over the table and I have everything all lined up. I pull back...smack the ball...and BOINK! I hit it at just the right angle to pop it off the table and right into the back of some guy's head."

"This guy is big. He's drunk. And, as it turns out, he's an angry drunk. He does not like being beaned by a cue ball and immediately takes it up with me."

"I, of course, am trying my damnedest to make peace with this guy. I don't want trouble! I apologize, offer to buy him a beer but he has threatened me in front of my brother. Ricky knows that I'm a cop and I knows I know hand-to-hand but...he's my brother and he's got a temper."

"Oi, but that was a night!" the detective laughs again. "I managed to break it up and the owner was happy to have everything settled without legal recourse."

"Back in JAG, the pool table was an informal conference location. You'd give opposing counsel a heads-up on discovery or pending motions, try to bet them off the table," Alex said, sinking the 5-Ball and moving to the 7. "NYC, it was the basketball court down at the gym. Same idea."

"Trick is, you're not always trying to power through things," he says, nodding towards the table. "Rail shots, for example, are all about hitting it square and a bit easy."

He makes his shot, the cue ball tapping the 7-Ball for an easy pocket.

"Come on, I'll set up a rack and we can have a game."

Evie watches as Alex sets up the game, glad to have a touch of normalcy after the past few days. She has a feeling that, from here on out, she'll have to grasp these moments with both hands and hold on tightly because they won't last long.

Once the game starts, she falls into her old habits of playing very, very badly. She's simply terrible at determining angles and how much force is necessary to make the cue ball do whatever it is that she wants it to do. Shots routinely fall short or go shooting across the table like big, colorful bullets. All the while, though, she laughs at herself. Her lack of skill doesn't bother her in the least and she enjoys the game for what it is: a game.

As they play, Evie considers something to chat about. Her first inclination is to ask Alex what brought him to the military and then law, but she quickly realizes that would be a stupid thing to ask. Just as detective work is part of her very nature due to her parentage, so too is war and law to Alex.

Instead, she starts with the little things, "So, are you originally from around here?"

"No. Grew up in Adelphi, a little suburb in Maryland. Dad," Alex pauses briefly, so you know he's talking about his mortal parent, "was a contractor working at Fort Detrick. Joining the Army was a way to afford law school, though I sure as hell didn't expect getting assigned to a war zone as a JAG officer."

He watches you handle several shots. "Want some tips? You can hustle Saul next time, he won't know what hit him."

"Absolutely! Anything I can do to annoy him makes my life just a little bit more fun," she laughs and it is clear in her tone that this is not a mean-spirited statement. Instead, it's just her picking on an old friend.

"First, you're rushing your shots just a bit. Unless you're playing on a shot clock, you have all the time in the world," Alex says. "So, tell me how you'd handle the 3-Ball on this next shot."

Evie walks around the table, looking at the three ball. Unfortunately, it's nestled up next to some other balls and she's not quite sure how to get it into a pocket from here.

"I think I'd just hit the group and see if I can break them apart. I _guess_ that I could _maybe_ get it into that corner pocket over there, but it looks like there's too much going on with obstacles in my path," she says thoughtfully.

Even as you consider your shot, you realize your assessment is colored by prior experience. You _could_ hit the 3-Ball and tuck it into a corner pocket; you just have no idea how to make it happen.

"This is where brute force can work against you," Alex coaches. "You want to hit the 3-Ball, but instead of knocking the balls hither and yon, let the table do the work for you. Aim straight at the cue ball ... that's it ... now take a half-step to your left ... and hit the cue ball firmly, but not too hard."

You do, and it's a sensation similar to when you were examining Thomas Cardinelli's body, an instinctive 'read' of the situation, as if you were judging the direction of a shot. The cue stick slides forward, and there's a soft _click_of balls against one another.

The 3-Ball stops right on the edge of the pocket and refuses to drop.

"Good. Very, very close. You'll get better at judging how much force to use. If you'd sunk it, the cue ball would have bounced off this rail, and broken up that cluster of balls you were worried about."

Alex takes a moment, sinks the 3-Ball, then the 4-Ball. He falls short on sinking the 5.

"I got a call from the District Attorney earlier. Says he wants to talk to me. Rumor mill says it's a job offer, so I'd be moving to the Hall of Justice."

The detective gives a soft, almost inaudible gasp of surprise as her powers kick in during play. Her eyes widen and a wicked grin spreads across her face. Eyes twinkling with mischief, she stands up straight and says to Alex, "My powers kicked in on that shot! I could see the layout...the same as I do in crime scenes. Maybe if this whole detective thing ever falls through, with practice, I could become a professional pool shark!"

After a moment of faux contemplation, though, she grins, "Nah. I don't think dad would approve."

She leans back against the wall, her pool cue propped against her shoulder. When Alex mentions the possible job offer, she says, "So, do you think you'll accept the offer, if that is what is happening? What would that mean for you?"

"Interesting," Alex says. "Dad didn't tell me much. Gave me a couple of presents, told me to keep doing what I was doing, galloped off to some other battlefield. A lot of it has been trial and error, like learning I can go several days without sleep. Or that asking the right question can give me an absolute sense of guilt or innocence, which is what drove the two big cases I've been involved with."

"And then the more recent events. Someone's pointing their attack dogs at me, but I've got no clue how it ties into anything else. I don't _think_ I've upset some godly plan with any case I've handled."

"As for the job offer, I'm inclined to say no, just because justice comes first in my book, and this sounds like politics. Chris Clemens is up for re-election in November, and his term hasn't been all that great."

"Honestly, I don't think it has anything to do with you, personally," Evie muses. "Thomas was a son of Tyr, too, and he was made an example. I think that whoever is doing this is...well...tweaking Tyr's nose. I have no proof of this at all, but my gut feeling is that any child of Tyr would be a target."

As she concentrates upon the mystery before her, all previous mirth disappears. Her brow furrows and her expression is once again serious, "But, I don't know why anyone in their right mind would do that. If you are really planning on trying to bring about Ragnarok, I would think that you wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself. You'd want it to happen as quietly as possible..."

"Unless...unless..." she chews her bottom lip, ..."Could this all be a distraction, a decoy? Something meant to make us look in the wrong direction?"

"Or _move_ in the wrong direction," Alex nods. "We respond to a threat that's real enough, but it's not the main push. It's a feint. Trick is figuring out what's what. So, if the _Lobos_ aren't the real threat, someone's pulling their strings, giving them a nudge.

"Humans are bad at judging risk. Heck, that's the whole point of a casino. That's Roget's story - a relative nobody, and then, wham, a big casino win and he becomes _somebody_.

"He might not even have been a Scion, because he kicked th-"

Alex breaks off in mid-sentence. "Shit. I should have twigged to that. I'll have to look it up. Roget dies, someone inherits. Except, if he's a Scion, he could have faked his death and left his money to himself, under another name. We don't age like most people, at least that's the theory."

"Huh! I didn't know that. That does change things a bit if he was a scion, doesn't it," she ponders. "Just out of curiosity, do you have any guesses about who's kid Roget might've been? I've been doing the Cliff Notes of mythology thing for the past couple of days, but it's a lot of information to absorb in a short amount of time."

"I don't know if that information would be entirely relevant, but we can't ignore anything, at this point."

"I don't know that he was or wasn't," Alex says. "But the building that bears his name had the body of my half-brother hidden beneath it. Can't be a complete coincidence.

"Being filthy rich isn't much to go on, but Roget _did_ have political aspirations at one time. Bankrolled other candidates, other development across the state. He could be anyone's kid."

"Well, I do have a list of people to look into, now. Tomorrow, I'll start doing some digging and see what I can find out about them," Evie nods in agreement of Alex's assessment.

"I'll definitely have to look into who Roget bankrolled and supported. That might be important. He may not have had the power to move things directly...or he had the power but didn't desire to do things himself...so he paid others to do it for him."

"Right now, he's my main concern. Well, no...my _real_ main concern is that figure I saw tonight, but I've got jack crap to go on about him, at the moment," she pokes half-heartedly at the table with her cue, fidgeting as she thinks.

"One mayor, two county supervisors, a member of the school board, two sheriffs, and - surprisingly - a supporter of a local food bank and homeless shelter," Alex said. "I can e-mail you that stuff. I can't see any real pattern to it, at least nothing major."

Evie continues to tap the end of her cue on the table, "Hmm...yeah, there's certainly no immediate connection except..."

She pauses, "The sheriffs. I'd be interested in finding out who they were. Thomas was an officer. I wonder if Roget got to him from the inside. But, that would depend on the timing. I don't know if he was throwing support their way before or after Thomas' death."

Alex glances off to one side as he consults his memory. "The sheriffs were about the same time, but I'm pretty sure they were _after_ Thomas got killed. Yeah, I could see that. They do a favor, maybe not even realizing it got a cop killed, they get a promotion, and Roget gets an endorsement for his campaign."  
"Not sure how we could prove any of that, fifty years after the fact," Alex says. "Oh, and before I forget, there's a news photographer who saw the bullet, he's promised to keep his mouth shut. Good kid, though. Former combat camera."

The clerk at the front counter fields a phone call. A moment later, he's taken the rest of the staff aside for a huddled conversation. There are nods of assent, but neither Evie or Alex have any notion of what the 'pep talk' involved.

Until two security types - black suits, close-cropped hair, earpieces, and a familiar bulge under their armpits - take up station near the front.

Something's wrong.

Evie exchanges glances with Alex and drops her cue upon the table. Any more talk of theories will have to wait.

The detective moves to the chair where she deposited her vest, picks it up and shrugs back into it with the ease that comes from years of wearing one of the blasted things. As she moves towards one of security, she straps it down.

"What's going on?" she asks the nearest security guard that she reaches.

"Rowdy crowd at the concert," the security guard says. "People we have inside say someone lit off some fireworks - smoke bombs, firecrackers - and there's _some_ fighting, but we're holding back right now, don't want to go all Five-O on the crowd. At least, not yet."

"Understood," she says. "I'm going to go take a peek, but I'll not rile anyone up. Going to stick to the back and watch until I know what's what."

She gives a smile and nod to the security guard before turning to move towards the concert hall.

"Mind if I tag along?" Alex says. "My antennae are twitching, you know?"

"Absolutely!" she replies. In a lower tone so that the security guards can't overhear, she adds, "We need to stick together. I don't like the idea of any of us being alone, at this point."


	9. The Show Must Go On

The lights dimmed, blue and red spots lancing through the crowd. A kicker light snaps on, illuminating Phoebe as her fingers dance across the fret board, establishing the bass line. Klepto rides her cymbals to create the charged-air feeling before a lightning strike, adds a beat on the bass drum to counterpoint Phoebe's bass.

Toxic and Orithia's guitars join in, and the fun begins. The kicker lights fade to an angled backlight before Lya steps out of the shadows and is highlighted as she begins to sing.

"I'm Lya, and these are the Furies!" she calls out as the first song ends. There's barely a beat before more notes trill from Toxic's guitar, and the set continues ...

Hitoshi is watching from a riser to one side. The crowd is already amped off the music, and the switchover between the Furies and the Nekromantix, which Kim and Lya had collaborated on during their sound check / jam session, would peg the meters.

It isn't until his second scan of the crowd that he realizes Mika Hanamura is standing off to his right. Gone is the formal mien of the executive-assistant-with-an-MBA-from-Stanford. She is wearing black jeans and motorcycle boots. A leather jacket with studded epaulets has seen better days - there are worn patches and even a few splits/scores in the leather, perhaps from laying down a bike. Her hair is coiled in a tight braid, and she is wearing glasses with high-contrast lenses. 

It is a delicious irony, you realize. The rule-bound Japanese businessman driving his daughter to rebel. Mika could easily pass as the girlfriend of a _boryokudan_ , a gangster. And, if she had those kind of sympathies/allegiances, she might find working with you somewhat challenging.

The left side of Hitoshi's mouth quirks up into a crooked smile as he raises an eyebrow and catches Mika's eye. With a slight nod he signals his approval at her manner of dress. Moving along the wall he slides in her direction as Lya belts out another great number.

"Miss. Hanamura, If I didn't know any better, I would think you were a biker gal, and not am executive Assistant. Definitely a change from earlier today" He says during a lull in the music. His gaze flicks up and scans the crowd for trouble again.

Lya takes a moment to catch her breath and take a swig out of her flask as Toxic blazes away at a guitar solo. She grins to the audience as she scans the audience, secretly looking for anyone who looks like an odd one out in the crowd.

"I don't think you guys are loud enough," she yells out as she grabs the microphone and leans out over the stage. "Let's remind everyone what it's like in Vegas, baby!"

"Growing up with a strict father, it was necessary to become something of a chameleon," Mika says. She is aware of you scanning the crowd, but says nothing.

There's a thunderous response from the crowd, local fans turning their outburst into an a capella chanting that becomes part of the next number's bass line. Never mind that the vocalization of 'euai' is a rough equivalent of a Greek exclamation, a cry of joy and celebration, so any performance of this song became a tribute to Dionysus.

It would have been less conspicuous if the gang members hadn't been living up to their name and travelling in a pack. As it was, they stood out, and badly so. They weren't like the rest of the crowd, caught up in the infectious feel of the song and the chant, but ... skulking.

Hands in pockets, furtive movements, but nothing that could immediately be called out as problematic...

Lya turns back to the band and catches the eye of Toxic and Orithia before gesturing that they join up around her as she moves to the front of the stage. She gestures with her head toward the crowd where she saw the Lobos and gets quick nods from the both of them in return.

When the music hits the driving drum beat Lya grabs her microphone and yells out "Let's hear you howl!" before she points her microphone out into the crowd toward the Lobos as best as she can. Klepto begins a thumping beat with the bass drums as Orithia and Toxic surge forward with their guitars on the beat in the same direction.

_Come on, Hitoshi... tell me you see them!_

Hitoshi saw then moments earlier. He'd had recognized one of the members from the Diner.

"Great, just what we need right now, and inside of all things." He mutters under his breath.

His eyes lock with Lya's, and he nods, signaling that he's seen them. Then he shakes his head telling her to do nothing yet. He wanted to see what they did first. However, his gaze moves over the crowd, counting gang members and likely gang members, and he moves to position himself better in case they try and rush the stage. Lukily, he also saw in the pit quite a few regular fans of The Furies, and he knew that Should the Lobos try anything, it would be just him putting proverbial boot to ass.

Only an idiot would look to start something in a room filled with edgy fans riding the adrenalin surge of music built on challenging conventions. But, then, it had already been established that the Wolf Pack weren't a bunch of rocket scientists.

Hands dip into pockets, then back out. Innocuous, except for the billows of acrid smoke that rise from the floor an instant later. At first, the crowd does not react, perhaps thinking it's part of the staging.

And then a string of firecrackers goes off, flashes of light in relative darkness, loud bangs.  
Someone yells, "GUN! He's got a gun!"

And all hell breaks loose.

The crowd surges as the mosh pit spills outward, people pushing and shoving to escape a threat that likely doesn't exist. A fire alarm is pulled, adding the ear-piercing warble and strobe to the chaos.

Hitoshi sees the Furies close ranks around Lya, something they'd have done even if it was a fan tripping out on a bad cap of Molly. But, again, any attackers would have to know it was SOP for any band - get off the stage and into a secure location.

Had he missed someone slipping into the back to set up an ambush?

Not that it would matter, unless it was a show of overwhelming force, and even then, they'd be leaving with pieces missing. Calling the quartet of Amazons, 'The Furies' was entirely apt.

"Everybody stay calm, it's just some assholes with firecrackers trying to ruin the party," Lya calls out over the speakers to the crowd as the Furies gather around her protectively.

"We need to get you off stage, Lya," Klepto says worriedly as she scans the crowd.

"I don't know about all of you," Lya continues to yell out to the audience over the alarms, "But a few firecrackers aren't going to stop me from having a good time and showing the world that we're here to stay... are they going to stop you? I say we turn that fucking alarm off and turn up the speakers!"

"Are you sure?" Phoebe asks.

"Look, this is going to get way out of control if we don't get them focused," Lya whispers as she covers up her microphone. "Hitoshi and the rest of the security are out there handling those Lobo assholes... our job is to make sure everyone else comes out of this alive and having a good time."

Just to be safe, Lya grips her staff and mutters another incantation "Sicut oculus Deus impetus prohibere iniuriam (God protect me from harm like the eye of the storm) that was a gift from her father as Klepto starts on the drums and they break into a rousing cover of Twisted Sister's "We're Not Going to Take It."

"EUAI! WE'RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT!" thunder some of your more devoted fans.

You're not sure who starts it, but that's not entirely odd for a mosh pit brawl. Now, instead of a panic, you have a fight with spectators. You're pretty sure you see at least one of the Wolf Pack go down under a studded-glove punch.

That's gonna leave a mark.

Someone heaves a chair towards the stage; it flies through the space Lya had been standing a moment before.

"Konbawa," Mika says, stepping in front of another Pack member. "My employer will want to speak to you."

"Get the fuck out of my way, Jap bitch," the gang member snarls. He pulls a switchblade and flicks it open. "Or I'll cut you."

"No, you won't," Mika says. Her own hand comes up; there is something in her fist, perhaps a canister of pepper spray.

"That's all you got? Too bad."

"For you," says Mika. She sidesteps the knife thrust, and brings a short, black bar across the back of the gang member's wrist. By reflex, he jerks his arm back and grimaces in pain.

"Drop the knife, please," Mika says quietly.

"Fuck you! Lemmego!" the gang member yells. Mika moves her hand ever so slightly, and he begins to sink to his knees, his face contorting.

"Drop the knife."

"Aaaaaah!"

The knife clatters to the floor. Mika's kubotan is moving in an instant, a quick jab to the side of the man's neck, and he slumps to the floor ...

Hitoshi Sighs. Some people just didn't know how to recognize their betters... or they were too stupid to care. Inside he was impressed with Mika's actions. They'd have a talk about that later. For the rest of the song he watches her work, and finally the song stops. He shrugs out of his jacket, hanging it over a spare mic stand next to the stage, and rolls up his sleeves

He tilts his head to the left . **Crack**

He tilts his head to the right **Crack**

Slowly he walks towards the gangers. The Fans of the Furies that have seen him at work quickly get out of his way, and soon a large circle is cleared on the floor. Him and Mika on one side, The gangers on the other.

Someone in the crow shouts "Hitoshi's gonna kick their Asses!"

He holds up a hand and the person falls silent. "I'm going to give you dumbasses a chance to leave... One chance. Conisdering you have started shit in my Casino, I'm being rather Generous. You can take it, or end up like the Black Talons, and unable to walk ever again. Possibly worse depending on how much my mood changes. I honestly don't give one fuck which one you pick, but make it quick, I got karaoke later."

All the gangs had heard about the Black Talons, and what Hitoshi had done to them that night for trying to have their way with Lya.

He cracks his knuckles and waits.

"Fuck you Esse!" One ganger screans and charges Hitoshi with a knife. Hitohshi's right leg snaps out like lightning, catching the man in the stomach doubling him over. Again it snaps out catching the ganger on the chin, breaking his jaw and knocking him out. He hits the floor like a limp noodle.

"Fine, have it your way... Your Funeral." Hitoshi says quietly. There s scary light in his eyes, and a smirk on his lips.

A lobbed bottle wings past Lya. So does a fan being flung across the lip of the stage as part of a body surfing wave.

Meanwhile, there seems to be no shortage of gang members. The one taking a nap is quickly replaced by another. The newcomer has a slightly larger frame and well-developed muscles show beneath his shirt. And there's a strange look-and-feel about him, something animalistic and primal. His brow is furrowed, his eyes slightly rolled upward, his facial muscles twitching as if he's a berserker on a too-tight leash.

_Look out the window_  
_Lookout below_  
_Back away from the glass_  
_There she blows_  
_The city's been leveled_  
_Hills are in flames_  
_Streets cracked open_  
_And they're pushin' up clay_

It wasn't on the set-list, but another cover, this one of the Wallflowers'_Everybody Out of the Water_ sets the tone for another beat-down ...

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. Something wasn't right about this guy, but he couldn't place his finger on what.

_"hmm, built large like a train. Don't want to get hit, but he's probably slow. Lets se what happens when I get him angry."_ He thinks.

The man throws a punch and Hitoshi takes a step backwards.

"Thats it? I saw that coming a mile away. Man, you telegraphed that so well I think the New York Times has it down."

Still, the offered punch isn't the untrained flailing about you've seen from others. There's a bit of MMA styling to the man's stance and presentation. He closes again and begins to circle, working the space better than the first guy.

"_El Maestro_ has ordered your death," he says in a monotone. He throws another punch, and you dance aside once more, but even with the advantage of being a Scion, you know any hit from this guy will hurt.

Outside, there are several audience members milling about, coughing or wiping at their eyes. A hint of smoke lingers in the air, but it isn't accompanied by the smells one would associate with something burning.

"It's just the opener," one concert-goer says. "It's too bad, they're good, I hope they have stuff out there. I'll go back in if things settle down, not missing a chance to see the Nekromantix."

"Stupid fuckers with smoke bombs," another fan bitches. "Some assholes did that at a concert in Seattle, once. Gonna make 'em eat one if I find out who it was."

Hitoshi grins "Finally a challenge." He snaps a kick towards the man's head but it's a feint, and he quickly turns it into a jump spin kick driving his foot deep into the man's stomach and using the kick to throw himself backwards into a flip. He lands on the balks of his feet, his hands up and ready. "Lya, sing me a song I can dance to, it seems I have a partner."

Lya spies Hitoshi and the brutish gang member circling each other in the crowd as they finish their song. She turns to the band and says with a grin into her microphone, "Are you ready, Toxic?"

"Uh huh," she moans into the microphone as Klepto begins thumping out a beat on the drums.

"Orithia?"

"Yeaaah," she replies with a knowing grin.

"Phoebe?"

"Okay..."

"Well all right girls..." she leans backwards as she belts out into the microphone "So let's GOOOOOO!" 

The gang member goes down as Hitoshi launches his kick-flip off of him. He staggers, but seems otherwise unfazed, and resumes stalking Hitoshi. As the two men circle, the gang member seizes one of the stanchions marking off the first row of tables.

The stanchion is a heavy metal-and-chrome affair, its base weighted with a lead plate, but the man wrenches it around like it's a toy, upending it as if he's going to use it to smash Hitoshi's head in.

Hitoshi responds to the move by shrugging out of his shirt, revealing a muscled physique, his torso covered by an intricate tableau of tattoo work, motifs from Japanese legend and his own personal trials.

He dangles the shirt from one hand, so it can be brought into play to lash around the stanchion's end.

TOSH! TOSH! TOSH! TOSH! some of the regular fans begin to chant.

"Kick his ass!" someone else yells, and the crowd picks it up as a chant.

It was post time, Hitoshi knew. The first few exchanges in a fight were a chance to evaluate your opponent. But then you had to act decisively, instead of giving them a chance to stave your head in with a metal pole ... 

And this is the scene that Evie and Alex walk into. Evie's eyebrows creep up her forehead as she sees one gang member brandishing a stanchion as though it was nothing more than a billy club. Still, she does not move to interfere...yet. It seems that Hitoshi has this under control and she's afraid that any police involvement could truly set things off and make it much worse than it is at the moment.

Instead, she starts scanning the crowd, looking for any stragglers that might decide to jump in and help a fellow out. Also, she's keeping her eyes peeled for the mysterious man she had seen outside...or anyone else unusual, for that matter. (Well, besides Hulk, over there...)

When the pole came out things went from bad to worse, Hitoshi knew. That man with that stanchion could cause some serious deadly harm to anyone around him. As if to prove a point the ganger swings the pole around and hits one of his fellow gangers, knocking the man to the ground. Hitoshi winces.

"Come on big guy. It's me you want!" Hitoshi yells at the big ape who seemed to be getting dumber by the second.

Th ganger brings the stanchion up and hammers it down right on the spot where Hitoshi was seconds before. Hitoshi wraps his shirt around it and tries to jerk it out of the mans grasp, but the guerrilla was just too strong, and His shirt rips from his grasp with a loud tear.

"Hitoshi!" Toxic's shout makes him look over.

She's Holding his walking stick. He nods and she chucks it before going back to playing. The stick sails through the air between them. Judging its arc, Hitoshi holds up his hand and his grasp closes about the hilt end.

The Giant of a ganger swings stanchion around again, aiming for Hitoshi's head only to have it shopped with a jarring clang. Where the stick used to be was now a Japanese Katana of Pure impeccable quality.

Hitoshi spins, bringing the blade around and down. Any normal Sword would break against the heavy chrome stanchion, but this was Honsho Masamune, the most master crafted sword to ever come out of Japan, and a Legend to boot. It had seen many wars, and something like a Chrome stanchion was not goings to stop it.

With barely a tug, the blade slices the Stanchion cleanly in two. Hitoshi Spins out from inside the man's reach as he tries to swing to two piece at him. Bringing the blade around Hitoshi spins it through his grip and the next thing removed is the Gangers right wrist.

Apart from an animal-like roar of pain, the gang member doesn't seem to be impeded by the loss of his hand. Casting aside the pole end he'd been clutching in his left hand, he jams the stump of his right beneath his left armpit, lowers his head, and charges at Hitoshi, bellowing loudly ...

Hitoshi sighs. Anyone looking at him can see the sad look of determined resignation on his face.

He charges towards the man, and then at the last moment, falls to his knees sliding between the man's legs on the blood slicked floor. As he passes between them he slices the back of the man's left leg with his sword, severing the man's tendons. He rises to his feet and turns around.

"Stay down, I don't wish to kill you."

Arms already wrapped about himself, the gang member topples gracelessly to the floor.

A fan darts out of the crowd, edges close to the prone figure and shouts, "TEN!"

Drumroll.

"NINE!" someone else shouts. Klepto does another drumroll, a wicked smile coming to her face.

The count gains speed and volume as more of the audience join in. Finally, a half-dozen or so fans are gathered in a semicircle around the man's feet.

"THREE! TWO! ONE!"

A rimshot and a clash of cymbals, along with a wry guitar riff of _Three Blind Mice_.

While everyone is looking at the downed ganger Hitoshi quickly wipes the Blood off Honjo Masamune and taps its tip on the floor. Mow he's leaning on a simple wooden walking stick again. Quickly he heads towards the stage.

"Time for all of us to go. I don't think the gang will be a problem anymore, but the police might."

"Alright everybody we're the Furies and that's our show for tonight! If you could give us 10 to let them get this smoke clear and the mess cleaned up Necromantix is going to continue to rock the roof off! Eua! Eua!" Lya yells out over the speakers as the Furies gather around her and they raise their fists in unison.

"You guys were great," Lya says to the others as they exit the back of the stage and let the roadies do their work. "You sure you all weren't Muses before you were Amazons?"

"What we do may be an art..." starts Klepto.

"But I don't think the Muses liked our color palette and choice of medium," Orithia finished with a chuckle.

Evie frowns, arms crossed, as she waits to see how the casino security handles things. She'd rather not step on any toes, if possible.

"Well, this isn't good," she mutters to Alex. "How much you want to bet that video footage of that fight is hitting YouTube as we speak?"

Already, her mind is trying to figure out what to do about Hitoshi. She doesn't know who started this mess, but there is most likely direct evidence of assault with a deadly weapon happening, here. There are tons of witnesses. And, it is known that she is here. She can't ignore this...

"Shit," she says, trying to think of a loophole to get her out of having everyone involved, including Hitoshi, hauled off.

"I'm on a store security camera and probably a dozen cell phones from earlier getting shot at close range," Alex said. "People look for explanations. They see things that aren't there, ignore things that are. Hitoshi's skill as a martial artist is a matter of record. People are familiar with samurai swords. But the rest? It's Hollywood to them. Show a picture of a severed hand, and there'll be people calling it a fake right alongside people swearing it's real."

"I'm an officer of the law, you're an officer of the court," Evie said quietly. "We can't just ignore this or pretend it didn't happen."

"I'm not saying that we should," Alex pointed out. "Process the crime scene, interview the crowd. Don't make any definitive statements. The crowd may turn out to be your allies - they'll start coming up with an explanation for everything."

=====

Lya makes her way off-stage, across the wings and into the backstage spaces. Kim waves at her and gives her a reassuring thumbs-up.

The band makes their way into their dressing room.

And someone is waiting for them.

"Good evening, Ms. Bach," says the gentleman seated on the couch. Lean of frame and face, tailored suit, smarmy grin. "We have some business to discuss. I've left my people outside, so if you'll dismiss your ... associates, we can keep this relatively pleasant."

"Don't do it, Lya," Toxic says. "Give the word, and I'll send this _skiazo _packing."

"Oh, and Hit-on-me, or whatever your name is. You're one of us, so you can stay. But stay over there, please. Glower all you want." 

"Mister Lying Bastard, I presume?" Lya sneers as she grabs a beer and leans against a table. She nods to the Furies as she mouths "it's ok" and grips her staff tight with her other hand.

"I think Hitoshi left plenty of pieces of 'your people' outside already. Hopefully they can behave around women or I'm sure they'll leave plenty more." She takes a long swig of her beer and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Oh, yes," Mr. Lying Bastard says. "The Furies do live up their name, don't they? Kiss, kiss, darlings. What I have to say isn't for the hired help. Or for second-hand reporting to Dionysus."

"So go on... let's hear the threat that's supposed to convince me not to tell him myself," Lya replies with a wave of her hand.

"Threat? My dear Lya, I don't deal in threats," Liar Liar tells you. "Neither will I insult you with the tired line that I make 'promises.' Those kind of dramatics work when one is cowing humans. You and I are different."

"A war is coming, Lya. You know it, I know it, even Hitoshi knows it. It's not about who wins or loses; it's inevitable. Fimbulwinter, Ragnarok, World's End. Oh, but it's the _Titans_. It's a fight for humanity, free will, blah, blah, blah," he continues. "I don't know about you, but humans aren't as good at creating as they are destroying things. Even Vegas. A nice enough town, I suppose, but built upon catering to human's base urges. Greedy, carnal, venal urges."

"It's inevitable because that's _life..._ that's what it _does._ We constantly go through the cycles of creation and destruction because you can't have one without the other. If all you do is destroy, then eventually there's nothing left and no point. If all you do is create..." Lya finishes off her beer with a gulp, "then you lose appreciation for what you have and eventually you run out of room for all your stuff. But this is something we all know already... so get to the point."

"Yes, exactly. Part of a cycle. Life and death. Order and chaos. War and peace," Lyman says, smiling. "Gods and Titans. Why pick the side that is destined to lose? That must lose? Accept it instead of fighting it."

"But you're making it so _interesting..._" Lya sighs. "What I don't get is why set the Lobos on us in the first place when it only made us more interested in your actions?" She leans over and grabs another beer from the small fridge under the table. "I mean..." she twists off the cap and takes another drink, "Wouldn't it have made more sense to just leave us all alone and oblivious?"

_"Hit-on-me..."_ Hitoshi had heard it before. It was rather lame by comparison. He lights up a smoke and takes a breath. After a moment he stubs it out still half unfinished.

"Look Fucktard, If you want to upset me, you are really going to need better insults than that. You ain't even close to what I used to get as a kid. And Lya right. My life was dull up till now. Things just got fun. Next thing you know we'll be having a chase down the strip with me and girls in a Corvette."

He walks over to a fridge and cracks open a beer. After a second thought he tosses one onto the couch next to the man and hands one to Lya. As long as it was just conversation and verbal sparring, he wasn't going to be terribly rude.

"Oh, and those guys of yours.. Kids. Stop using them. Those poser wannabees think they are tough? The only thing they are is stupid. It's going to get them killed, but then I bet you like them just smart enough to follow orders. So, what did you promise them? Money? Power? Eternal life?"

"Diamonds for their girlfriends, apparently..." Lya nods and takes the beer from Hitoshi before sticking it in her pocket for later. "That is if they don't go insane and blow their own heads off first."

"Yes. Well, Esteban was an unfortunate outcome. Jotunblut does that, sometimes," Lyman shrugs. "Hitoshi, when the time comes for us to be enemies - if that's what you choose, of course - I won't be wasting time with juvenile insults."

He raises the beer. "Thank you for this. One of the benefits in dealing with a daughter of Dionysus, or coming from a pantheon where they drink mead like soda pop. Glorious stuff, when it's brewed right."

"The Wolf Pack is useful in a number of ways, not the least of which is that they're deniable. Even the police will laugh at stories about gods and their earthly agents when they have gang members with prior records to hand. Amazons, Einjehar, whatever - we all have our disposable tools."

"And that is why we're having this chat. It would be a shame for you to be the pawns in this little game of gods and titans, swept off the board as an afterthought. Because that's how they see us. They tell you that you've earned a place, that you're worthy, when that's not really true. They weren't there when you almost got raped, Lya. They weren't there when you needed them that one night, Hitoshi. If you ask Alex, he'll tell you Tyr wasn't there when his chopper got shot down."

"Now we get to the meat of the problem..." Lya chuckles. "You've got Daddy issues." She finishes off her beer before setting it on the table behind her.

"Look... I didn't really know my mother much either, and personally I'm pretty happy with that because she was a real bitch." she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her other beer. "But I get it... you're tired of acting out your role..." she takes a swig of her latest beer,"because you think you're _special,"_she finishes with a sneer while making quotes in the air with her hands.

"I have the blood of a god in my veins," Lyman says. "Do neither of you see it? When the gods and titans are done beating each other senseless, we can be the ones to take up the reins of power. A golden age for man? A land flowing with milk and honey? All these things are possible. Choose whatever side you wish, as long as you understand there will be a point where your choice will be between being a mere minstrel and being a goddess."

He looks Hitoshi up and down. "Or a Power Ranger. Whatever floats your boat."

=====

The audience had been ushered back into the hall. A pair of security officers from the casino were recording quick video depositions, asking people to provide their names and a phone or email address, plus a quick description of what they saw.

"Where are the paramedics?!" shouted an officer, kneeling beside the fallen gang member.

"Right here," came the answer as two paramedics wheeled in a stretcher. "Okay, severe trauma and blood loss. Need a compression bandage. Who's got the ... um ... hand?"

"Here," said a casino security guard. "Baggie and ice from the bar."

"Smart move. Tourniquet?"

"My tie," said the police officer.

"Vitals," said the paramedic, calling out numbers. "He's in shock. We'll transport to general, but he'll be going into surgery, stat."

"We'll still want someone there to interview this guy."

The gang member's eyes snapped open. They were glazed, but still charged with lambent fury. He looked at the paramedic, smiled.

"Mein leben fur Fenris!"

"Ruhe, krieger," she said softly.

The man's eyes closed.  
And then his body began to glow, forcing everyone to look away ...

"What the ...?" shouted the officer, reaching for his weapon. "Get back, get back!"

The light faded. The body of the gang member was gone.

"Huh? Where'd he go? Williams, you see him?" the officer said.

"He's not over here!"

A glance towards the stage. "He back there?"

"No. Nothing here."

"You saw it, right?" the officer asked the paramedic.

"There was a flash of light, you shouted get back, and ... no patient," she said.

"You're gonna love this," said the hotel security officer. He held up the bag that had held the severed hand. It, too, was gone. Nothing but a bag of ice remained, the melt not even tinged with a hint of red.

"Jesus. Why me?" the officer asked. "How the hell do I write this up?"

"Responded to report of disturbance, no victim?" suggested the other paramedic.

"Where'd he go? He was right here, he didn't just disappear!"

"Someone said there was a smoke bomb, maybe firecrackers earlier," said the casino security guard.

"Maybe some kind of flare? Guy probably had priors, doesn't want to get made. Plays possum, then lights a flare and slips out a door. Put out an APB or something."

"I guess," said the officer.

"We're done here, then," said the female paramedic. She and her partner began picking up their gear.

It's as the paramedics are leaving that Alex stops and stares at the young woman.

"Holy shit," he says. "Hey! Wait!"

The paramedic glances over her shoulder. "Are you injured, Sir?"

"No, but ... I thought you were someone else," Alex said. "Sorry."

"I get that a lot," she smiles.

"I imagine you do," Alex says. "Again, sorry. There's no way you could be who I thought you were. It was years ago, and in another country."

"It's still not your time, Son of Tyr," she said quietly.

Alex eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'It's time for us to get out of here.' My partner and I," she said.

"Will ... can I ... look, can we hook up later? Dinner or something?"

"Is this the part where you scribble your number on a napkin?"

Alex offers her his business card. "Call me. Really."

"I can't promise anything," she says. She glances at the card. "Bye, Alex."

During this whole affair, Evie stays towards the back of the crowd, taking statements from onlookers and letting other officers actually handle the body. She breathes a sigh of relief when the other officers seem to pay her no mind. She's more than happy to let the paperwork for this particular incident fall upon someone else's shoulders.

From where she stands, listening to the statement of an over-enthusiastic and slightly intoxicated young man, she overhears Alex's conversation. She mentally notes it, but says nothing to him. After all, it doesn't seem to be any of her business.

Besides, it's hard to get away from this particular, young rocker.

"Duuuude! Did you fukkin' see what happened? That was, like...BWEEEEH!...," exclaims the young man, who is making the 'mind blown' gesture as he speaks.

"No, sir, I didn't. That's why I need you to tell me what you saw," Evie patiently explains for about the fifth time.

"Oh, yeah...dude...like, this huge guy, right? He like starts picking a fight with this little Asian guy. He's like picking up shit and trying to hit him and the Asian dude goes all Mortal Kombat on him and..."

"Uh-huh," Evie tries her best to maintain an air of slight disbelief, just as would be appropriate in this situation.

"No, no! You gotta listen to me, Fuzz. I am totally not making this shit up. There was like...KWAH! and KZANG!...and then there was blood and a hand...Oh! go talk to the EMC dudes. I bet they have the hand. I bet it's all gnarly and bloody," the guy grins and nods his head. "Sweet."

"Okay, then. I'll go talk to them. Thank you for your time, sir," Evie smiles politely and walks back over to where Alex stands.

"So, what now? Think we should find Lya and Hitoshi?" she asks.

Hitoshi glowers at the man. "Jason David Frank and Austin Saint John have nothing on me. You aren't the only one here with the Blood of a God or Goddess in their veins, so I suggest you remember it. You are in my casino, and my home, and frankly, you and those you keep company with are not welcome, and if I have to get rid of you one by one, I will."

He cracks his neck for emphasis.

"Oh and on that subject, who do you call daddy? Fenerir perhaps. Would that make you a son of a Bitch? Or maybe it's Loki. I'm curious to know."

"They're probably backstage," Alex nods. He glances towards the doors and the departing paramedics. "EMT's are leaving ... wait, they didn't have anyone on the stretcher ..."

An officer approaches Evie.

"Sir, I think ... I think I fucked up," he says.

"How's that?" Evie asks.

"Sir, we had a suspect in custody, and ... he got away. He's gone," the officer tells you. "Threw a flare or something, everyone looked away, and he's gone."

"So much for hospitality," Lyman says with a shrug. "Oh, nice to meet you cousin, by the way, I want to kill you and your friends. As I was telling the lovely Lya, here, the Wolf Pack are useful in that sense. Foot soldiers in a long war."

Lyman stands and sets his beer aside.

"My father is Loki. Please don't tell me my pseudonym had you stumped. And Fenris' pups are somewhere around here," he says with an airy wave. "Fortunately, they're housebroken. Just as vicious as their father, though. I'd think twice before picking a fight with them."

"A pleasure, dear Lya. Do consider what I've said." He moves closer to the door. "And, Hitoshi, I hope you are wise enough not to do something rash like attempting to turn me into sushi as I walk by, yes?"

Evie frowns and makes a soft hrrm, sound. However, she shakes her head and waves it off, "It looks like no one here was hurt (aside from the suspect) so...no real harm done."

"Besides, he's missing a hand, right? He shouldn't be too hard to track down. That will need to be treated. We can check the hospitals and vets, visit some of the "unofficial medical staff" that we are aware of...," she shrugs.

She claps the man on the shoulder, "Don't worry about it. Just put out an APB and we'll see what we can turn up."

Hitoshi shakes his head.

"My Father is Hachiman, so you are no cousin of mine, however, considering you have not directly threatened myself or the Furies while in this room, and unlike you, I abide by certain codes of Honor. I'm done with fighting for the day, but if your wolves come around again before the sun has risen, I will make Sushi out of every one of them."

He moves to the door and opens it. "Tell me one thing though, if you want to let the Gods and the Titans fight it out then make the dearth better, why are you even involved? Why not just sit back and let everything blow over?"

The officer nods to Evie. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"Evie. A word?" Alex says, indicating a corner with a nod of his head.

Evie nods to show she heard, but continues to survey the crime scene and keep an ear out for further 'amazing stories.' It's several minutes before she approaches Alex.

"What's up?"

"You know they're not going to find him, right?"

"Standard procedure. He'll turn up, or he won't," Evie says, her words giving nothing away. A raised eyebrow asks her question.

"I'll explain more later, but it's like something I read in a fantasy novel, a mythical warrior that could be summoned forth to fight for its master."  
"That's right up there with BWEEEEH!" Evie says, making the same mind-blown gesture as the one witness.

"Third cousins, twice removed, then," Lyman smiles. "I think you'll get away with tonight's performance, but even the police aren't so thick that they'll ignore a bunch of gang members turning up minus bits and pieces."  
"As for the rest, it's like surfing," he says, miming being on a board. "Ride the wave, through the pipe and out as it all breaks apart behind you. Good night, Hitoshi Ryder. You have a busy day tomorrow; you should get your rest."

Evie glances around at the scene, taking note of everything that is going on. The paramedics have already left, casino security is cleaning up the scene and it looks like people are finally starting to disperse. Most of the officers who were called are also either taking care of talking to a few straggler witnesses or packing up and heading out to the next scene where they are needed.

"I think it's safe for me to wander away, at this point," she says to Alex. "Let's go catch up with the others."

"You know why the Gods come down to Earth and have us kids?" Lya asks as she walks up to him at the door. "Because they're sick and tired of being gods with all that responsibility and crap that comes with it. And you..."she points a finger into his chest as she holds her bottle of beer with the rest of her hand, "You want to start all that shit down here?" she gestures with both hands at her temples. "Blows my mind, man...blows my mind. Maybe you should think about if you really want all that shit, or if you're just angry that daddy didn't play enough ball with you as a kid."

"Good night, Lying Bastard... I've got better things to do then be your therapist."

Lyman gives a polite bow. "I'll take that as a 'no,' then. Pity. The war will come regardless, and, now, perhaps sooner than you think. I bid you farewell, Lya."

He pauses at the door. "When you're having your little denouement tomorrow, consider that we're both liars, Hitoshi. I'm just honest about it."

Hitoshi smiles. "Go fuck yourself, and have a good night."

He slams the door in the man's face then goes as sits on the couch and sighs. After a moment he walks over to the coat rack and pulls a spare shirt and tie out of a garment bag and puts it on.

"Did Phoebe tell you I was planning on taking her out to eat and Kareoke?" He asks softly as he messes with the tie.

"What she does in her free time is her own business, Hitoshi," Lya sighs as she closes the door. "I just hope for all our sakes he leaves us alone tonight and I don't have to interrupt." She finishes off her beer with a long gulp before throwing it across the room into a can. "I'm going to gather the rest of the girls and find the others so they know what went down." She grabs her cane and her backpack and slings it over her shoulder before heading out the door. "You two be careful."

Hitoshi Sighs as Lya walks out the door then he follows.

"Lya wait... It was supposed to be just me and Pheobe, but after these events, I'd like to take you all out tonight. I have some news for all of you, and it may be good, it may be bad, but I want to tell you all over dinner. Pheobe and I will have to go out by ourselves another time."

"I'm just honest about it," Lyman says. He ignores Hitoshi's abrasive farewell and steps into the hall. Whereupon he comes face to face with Evie and Alex.

"Ah, the Detective and the Bullet Magnet," he smiles. "So, what _does_ it take to kill you, North?"

"And you are?"

"You can call me Lyman. As you might have guessed, I'm on the 'other side,'" he says, making air quotes around the phrase. "You clearly take after your old man."

"Ah. Well, let me tell you what he once told me," Alex said. "Just because we're related doesn't mean I won't beat the tar out of you."

"You'll have to wait in line, I'm afraid. Hitoshi is just itching for the chance."

"I'll bet."

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I must be off," Lyman smiles. "Good night, Evie."

With a light step, Lyman heads out the door.

And the moment he does, the Furies emerge from two of the other rooms. Toxic has a compact crossbow to hand, while Orithia has a collapsible baton. Klepto has her drumsticks, and Phoebe is tucking a knife back into her sleeve.

"So, that's the Son of Loki," Toxic says. "Slimy bastard. Phoebe, did he say anything important? You had your ear to the wall."

"Lots of 'dear Lya' and smooth talk," Phoebe said. "Offered her a chance to side with the Titans."

"Like _that's_ going to happen," Orithia said. "Toxic, you should have shot him."

"Wasn't a clear shot. Not that Alex couldn't take it, but he's had enough of getting shot at for one night, I imagine."

"Um, yeah," Alex said. "I could do without an arrow in my chest."

"That doesn't mean I won't shoot you if you're in the way," Toxic added.

"Good to know."

"Hmmm," Evie eyes the man's back as he walks away, lost in thought as the Furies arrive. This does not stop her from hearing their news, though.

"It's a shame he didn't stop to talk. I think I'd like to hear what he has to say," Evie muses.

"Don't tell me that you're actually thinking about joining his side?!" Phoebe exclaims, a dangerous look passing over her (and the rest of the Furies') features.

"No, no," Evie waves off their concern. "My loyalties lie here. However, there's something to be said for letting your enemy talk...and talk...and talk. Get them monologuing and you can learn things. Granted, I'm betting he'd try to feed me a pack of lies...he pretty much admitted that as he was walking out the door...but that just means that I'd have to sort everything out, afterwards."

The detective shrugs and smiles, "But, at least I'd have some more puzzle pieces to work with."

Hitoshi sighs. "Detective Cartwright, his type only gives out what he wants to give out, and nothing more. A Bond Villain he is not. However, that being said, I'm sure we will see more of him."

He slings the now empty garment bag over one shoulder and closes the door behind him and Lya.

"Phoebe, I still plan on going out, but due to the attack, I'm worried about Lya and the rest of you. So you and I shall have to go out ourselves some other time. Tonight I'd like to take everyone out to eat. On top of all this there's a few things I found out today that may change our lives possibly for the better."

"The Westview comped my dinner earlier," Alex said. "But a drink and a light bite with some friends, I'd like that."

He glances back at the theater.

"Lyman, or whatever he calls himself, is being a smug bastard," Alex adds. "He made sure to point out that he knew our names, and that he knew my divine parentage."

"Where are we going?"

"There's a place I know called the Rising Sun Lounge. It's an actual proper Sushi Restaurant that also has some interesting entertainment." Hitoshi replies.

"Hitoshi, I used to be in the Army. You'd be surprised what soldiers get up to when they're on leave," Alex laughed. "There even used to be a place here in town, a BattleMech center or something like that, where you could 'pilot' a giant war machine."

Hitoshi shrugged and started walking towards the exit.

"I hope you like to sing then. Tonight's Kareoke and a few other things."

He nods to the security at the door then opens it and looks around. seeing it was clear, he holds it open.

"Well, whose going?"

"Karaoke. Yeah, the boys did that, too," Alex said. "Saw some really bad acts, too. Might have even been me."

Evie rolls her eyes at Hitoshi's comment about Bond villains, "Oh, sure. I guess I'll just never ask any questions or listen to anything my enemy says from here on out. Obviously, I will never, ever glean anything of use from it because these guys never, ever fuck up. Ever. Never ever.."

"I've totally been doing my job wrong for the last decade. Who knew?"

She follows the others towards the door.

"The nice thing about Bond Villains is that they like to brag about their amazing plan to take over the world," Alex said. "I think that's what we're seeing with Lyman. He'll want us to know all about it, understand it ... so he can do an I-Told-You-So dance in the end zone after scoring."

"Personally? I think he just told us the stakes are going up."

"Actually Officer Cartwright, what I meant is he's going to be a tough nut for you to crack, and you will probably have to do more investigating than outright questioning. Even then I don't think much of anything will turn up until exactly when he wants it to, like a trail of breadcrumbs."

Hitoshi replied over his shoulder. Then he turns around.

"But, I have been wrong about things before."

"Ah, but the important question is, 'Are they any good at karaoke?'" Alex joked. "Right now, it's all about pushing us out of our comfort zones. If we want to push back, that's something we'll have to talk about."

She snerks softly at Alex's statement, "I think karaoke is just about as far out of my comfort zone as it gets. And, if I sing, I'm pretty positive that Lya and the Furies' head will explode. Or they will try to put me out of my obvious misery."

"Nonetheless, you are still invited for dinner, Officer Cartwright. If you don't wish to sing after that, no one will make you." Hitoshi smiles.

"He actually talked quite a bit... made it pretty clear that he resents the fact that he didn't know his daddy and now he wants to take over the world so daddy and everyone else will have to pay attention." Lya adds as they walk out and she catches up with the others. "What I don't get is why get us involved? We wouldn't have had any idea if he hadn't showed himself. Ego, maybe?"

"And maybe it's a momentum thing, you can't push against something without resistance, or ... I'm not making any sense, am I?" Alex says.

"Like the football player who runs farther when he gets to plow through people?" Suggests Lya. "It's the challenge that makes the doing worthwhile."

"Sort of. You can't fight or grapple with something you can't touch. It's how you judge your stance, your next move," Alex said. "So he's sizing us up, figuring out where he can hit us."

"He already tried to disrupt the concert... he's going to do whatever he can to bring us out into the open so we'll be too busy explaining our existence to the public to stop him. We should all be careful," Lya warns.

"If Loki is anything like Eris we're talking about some epic level button pushing."

"I'm sure we will figure out was to work in the public eye at some point, and then, well lets just say he will be the one needing to watch out." Hitoshi says grimly as he holds the door to his Mustang.

"Who's riding with my to the Restaurant? I'll have to see about getting a car for the rest."

"I have my own car. I'll follow you there," Evie says.

"I've got to take the gear back in the van so I'll meet you guys at the restaurant," Lya replies.

"If someone can drop me off at my office, I can get my car as well," says Alex.


	10. The After-Party

(Friday Night - Post-Performance)

The Rising Sun is a sushi restaurant and bar off of the main strip, featuring classical Japanese decor, but also the artistry of a Japanese-trained _itamae_. It is also one of the few places, other than the Miyako, where the adventurous can try fugu, although the price is equally adventurous.

"Ryder-san!" the hostess greets the party warmly. "Where would you like to sit?"  
Hitoshi indicates a table that is near the stage, but the only entertainment consists of other patrons indulging in karaoke. There are one or two aspiring professionals pacing the evening, and an older gentleman who belts out Sinatra tunes with gusto, but the rest are folks who are too loud, too soft, or slightly off-key.

"The last time I heard music like this, it was during a wild boar hunt outside Delphi," Orithia smiles.  
"The food is better here, trust me," Hitoshi smiles. As the waitress arrives, Hitoshi orders in fluent and rapid Japanese, without looking at the menu. The waitress bows and speaks to the chef, who also bows in Hitoshi's direction before setting to his work.  
Warm sake arrives in short order. And then several plates of sushi, each a work of art in styling and color ...

Evie, who is unfamiliar with sushi, points to a particularly lovely piece and asks Hitoshi, "What is this? It looks delicious!"

"Oh, and...uh...is it okay if I eat with my fingers? I don't know how to use chopsticks. I'd just end up tossing food everywhere," she says with a shrug and apologetic smile.

Hitoshi smiles.

"Actually Officer Cartwright, sushi is made to be eaten with fingers."

He takes a closer look at what she is pointing at.

"I believe that is a crab and avocado roll, and one of my favorites. Course I love them all really." he say pouring some soy sauce into the small; bowl next to him. He picks up a piece of the same and dips it lightly before placing the whole piece in his mouth and chewing.

Once again, Evie shakes her head and looks a little exasperated, but also amused, "How many times do I have to tell you, Hitoshi...it's Evie. Only people I don't know and the rookies call me 'Officer Cartwright.'"

Relieved to know that she won't be viewed as an uncouth barbarian for eating with her fingers, she picks up a piece of crab and avocado roll. Following Hitoshi's lead, she dips it in soy sauce before popping it in her mouth.

As she had suspected, it is delightfully flavored. Finally able to fully relax after a very, very long day, she chews contently.

"I do believe I have discovered a tiny piece of heaven!"

Alex pours himself a glass of sake.

"Ave victores mortuis," he says, tossing it down before refilling his glass. Orithia takes note and raises her own glass in salute.

"I don't believe I've ever eaten here," Alex says. "This is really good sushi."

"Man either your drum set is putting on weight or I've got to get the suspension checked on the van," Lya announces as she walks up to the table and waves her staff at the waitress. "Sakebombs! It's not a celebration without sakebombs!"

She plops down in her chair with a sigh and leans back in her chair as she props her knee against the table. "I don't know about you guys, but I seriously need to relax after tonight. When those fireworks started going off I thought we were going to have a five-alarm freak-out."

"I suggest checking the van before you give my drums a complex," Klepto snorts. "You did good last night...you kept your head and kept the chaos to a minimum all things considered."

"Yeah... instead of a stampede we just had a good mosh pit," Toxic chuckled.

"I was ready to lose it when that creep showed up backstage, though," Lya grunted as she removed her knee and her chair fell forward with a clack against the tile. "This Lying Bastard with his boo-hoo act getting disgruntled people like us to join his side just pissed me off." She grabs a piece of barbecued eel and stuffs it in her mouth. "I mean..." she stops and swallows, "this guy has some serious abandonment issues and instead of popping some Zanex or finding his own way to live out of their shadow he's got to fuck it up for everybody."

She grabs her flask out of her coat pocket and takes a long drink before wiping her chin with the back of her hand. "Gods I hate Emo."

"Huh. Well, since you pretty well shot down the recruitment effort on his part, I guess we can expect him to start trying to take us all out," Evie sips at her sake, getting used to the flavor. It's not bad, but it's also not an alcohol that she's used to and isn't sure how fast it will hit her system.

"What do you guys think we should do, now?"

"'Join me, and together we will rule the galaxy!'," Alex says, mimicking Darth Vader. "I can't imagine he really thought that would sell anything to any of us. Especially after having his trained punks do a drive-by."  
"I mean, what's next? A car bomb?"

"No kidding!" Evie says. "But, I suspect that he was aiming his sights more at Lya and Hitoshi than the two of us. I mean, I can see how he might view the two of them as still being wild cards."

"He probably tried me because I didn't have a great relationship with my mom let alone my dad. Just as well I could care less about needing validation from either of them." she grabs a cup of saki from the table. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that dad saved my life that night... and you guys are some of the best friends I've ever had," she says to the Furies as she raises a glass, "But I don't want to be a goddess; I just want to be free to be me."

"Ad libertatem!" Toxic calls out as she raises her glass and the other Furies follow suit before downing their shots.

"As to what we should do now... he got our reply, so now it's time to see what his next move is going to be. He's probably going to try and hit each of us individually in our weak spots... so my best advice is to second guess_everything_ that happens to you from here on in. When it comes to gods of chaos _nothing_ is coincidence."

"Yeah, I have that whole 'unswerving sense of justice' thing going," Alex says. "Which is a bit odd, seeing as Dad's speciality is War. But it means a slick sales pitch isn't going to do the trick. So it's take me out, or make my life complicated, I guess."  
"Hmm. Maybe that explains why the DA wants to talk to me."

"Do you think they're going to try to tie your hands, legally?" Evie asks.

Hitoshi sits quietly for a moment, then speaks. "I am afraid Lya, that we won't have much longer to stay out of the fight."

He pulls out an old and faded letter on parchment paper and unfolds it, sliding it across the table towards the others.

(To anyone reading it.

Hitoshi:

I ask that you read this letter and even if you cannot accept what I about to write to you, that you accept the gift the letter comes with.

You will have questions. The first, being, of course, why the Lord of Nets could not save your friend, when it seems such a small thing to ask.

It is a universal truth that the things we devoutly wish for are often denied us by circumstance or duty. So it was with Akane-san's fate. What the heart desires is not always what comes to pass, even for the gods. In this, I can only offer you my deepest apologies.

The other reason is that we - the gods - are at war. As you are just now coming into your heritage, it may not be apparent to you, but it is there. It is not something you will be able to hide from, and you will be tested more severely than you have in the loss you have suffered.

As the tsunami comes in the wake of a sea quake, so shall the battle that determines the fate of gods and men. Much will be swept away, and much will be lost. And in this regard, the future rests with you, and those who share the gift of our blood.

I cannot give you specifics, as I do not have them. The Greeks call the opposing forces the Titans, and that name shall suffice. Under their rule, there will only be darkness, with mankind little more than slaves and trivial amusements.

So I bequeath to you two gifts. First, a copy of Go No Rin Sho, the Book of Five Rings. It is a treatise on warfare and the animating spirit of the samurai. You will find it relevant to all things.

The second is a blade of legend, Honsho Masamune, the greatest work to come from the forge of Masamune himself. Not even the blades of his Ten Disciples have come close to its perfection. But, as warriors have traded their katana for fountain pens, so will Honsho be in the eyes of others - a walking stick. And even when drawn at need, few will be able to see its true form and nature.

Honsho also gives you access to a gift that you will find useful, if a bit late in coming. Through it, you may designate a single person or object to be under your protection, and maintain a link to same. Should they come under threat, you will know.

I could not save Akane-chan, and this saddens me more than you could possibly know. But from her life, I know you will take the lessons that will make you a formidable enemy to the Titans.

Be well, Hitoshi.

(The only signature is Hachiman's crest.)

"It, a copy of Go No Rin Sho, the Book of Five Rings, and Honjo Masamune were waiting in my apartment when I got home from my fated trip to japan. No, I don't think we can avoid the war much longer. The best we can do is be the eye in the midst of the hurricane and keep people safe."

He grins. "And of course ruin the plan of Mr. Lymann."

"I'd told Evie earlier that the scuttlebutt is that the DA wants to offer me a job," Alex says as Hitoshi is getting set up for his performance. "Yeah, it could be a way of tying my hands, as I'll have less say about what cases I handle. Maybe that means Lyman and his ilk will be putting the screws to someone who I could otherwise help. Or maybe it's just to make me just another cog in the gears of Justice."

Evie sits quietly through Hitoshi's performance, reading over the letter as she listens to him play in the background. When she is done, she pushes it back to the center of the table for anyone else to read.

Patiently, she waits. The performance is beautiful but she is now far more curious to what his announcement will be than anything else. Does it have to do with the letter she just read ? Or, was the letter simply a glimpse into his past to let them know that he has been aware of the impending war for some time?

"The Gods are _always_ at war, Hitoshi," Lya replies with a roll of her eyes as he hands everyone his letter. "You Japanese are so honorable and solemn... the Greek Gods start wars because they weren't invited to dinner parties or somebody said they were prettier than they were, or Zeus stuck his thing in the wrong nymph. " Lya grabs a handful of wasabi peas and crunches on a few. "Of course the Titans have always had that issue with kids... but hey, that's what you get when your favorite meal is a kid sandwich. I'm just glad Dio and the others didn't take after their parents." she pours herself another cup of saki and takes a sip before sitting back in her chair. "I don't think Lyman's game has anything to do with the war these Gods are having though... I think Lyman wants to take advantage of the fact that all the gods are going to be too busy in order to stop him from staking his claim on whatever's left."

"Yup. Car bomb," Alex snorts. "And, no, I don't mean the shot of Bailey's &amp; Jameson's in a pint of Guinness. He even asked me what it would take to kill me, seeing as he's tried twice and fucked it up."

"But, I _think_ I saw a Valkyrie tonight. She came to claim Hitoshi's playmate. And she was the same one who collected the chopper crew after we got shot down. That, or they have some kind of institutional memory thing. She said it still wasn't my time, but I don't know if that means I'm on a short list or something."

"That explains that, then. I overheard your conversation with her, but I thought you were just trying to pick her up," Evie grins, a slightly mischievous twinkle to her eye. It's not something seen often from the usually rather serious detective.

"Well you've got to wonder how many other Scions this guy has gotten on his side already, you know? Other than Fenris, of course... that one's pretty obvious."

"That's a really good point," Evie's expression becomes serious once again. "I'm still really new to all of this...is there any way to detect scions? I don't know if there's any magic or anything...I guess magic exists. Magic exists, right?"

"David Copperfield will be crushed to find that you've doubted him for so long, Evie," Lya deadpans. _"Crushed."_ She holds the serious look for a total of 3 seconds before she snorts.

"It may not be all unicorns and rainbows... but yeah... it exists. My friends are walking proof of that one."

"Well, she was rather pretty," Alex smiles. "But it'd be like dating a subordinate officer or something, wouldn't it? Conflict of interest, if she's got to punch my ticket for Valhalla."

He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the room, trying to get a feel for where everyone was.

"I don't know. I'm not getting any weird vibe off of any of you," Alex says. "I mean, Lya smells like clove cigarettes, but short of us seeing something odd, like a guy getting shot and run over, then coming away without a scratch, I'm not sure there is a tip off."

"As for magic, there has to be, right? I should be a stain in the driveway, that's magic enough for me."

For just a moment, Evie's cheeks tinge pink but it passes quickly.

"Well, yeah. It has to exist since, well...we are who we are. But, that seems more like...genetics? I don't know how else to explain. We have the blood of gods and that is, in itself magical."

"But, are there scions that can do magic? David Copperfield level stuff?" Evie smiles at Lya, acknowledging the good-natured jab from the scion of Dionysus. "Could a scion conjure fire and lightning? Could they have clairvoyance?"

Evie shakes her head, and agrees with Alex, "I don't feel anything off from you guys, either. I don't know...I'm just trying to figure out how to be proactive. I'd rather not wait for someone to try to kill Alex again before we figure who all of our enemies are."

"Yeah wish I could help there... I can nudge circumstance a little in one direction or the other and I've got a direct line to my best buds whenever I need them, but other than that... nope." She tosses a wasabi pea up into the air and catches it in her mouth before crunching. "Unless of course you count being ungodly charming and witty," she finishes with a wink at Alex.

"Why not? I heal fast, you assess crime scenes. Maybe if I was Thor's kid, I might be able to throw a lightning bolt," Alex says. "And maybe there are things about ourselves we haven't discovered or tapped into. Loki's kid better hope 'smashing smarmy punks into paste' isn't something I inherited."

"Well, that's something! If we know all of our strengths, then we know what we have to work with."

"So, let's see...Lya, you have allies at the ready and can affect luck (kinda), Alex, you can heal, it looks like Hitoshi is crazy fast and good with a weapon and I'm basically a walking CSI lab," Evie rattles off their assets. "Is there anything else that I'm missing? I'm only listing what I have been told or seen firsthand."

Hitoshi laughs and summons the waitress. "Kemiko, bring over a bottle Plum wine please. Thank you." Once she leaves he speaks again. "Well I can put a ward on others by touch, then I know when and if they are in danger. Oh, and no big deal, but I can fall from any height and walk away."

He lowers his voice. "Only if I have my ring and my sword. Otherwise I'm just fast and one hell of a fighter."

"Sake bombs, Hitoshi... _sake bombs!"_ Lya pleads. "We just stopped a riot and had all our lives threatened by a Nordic Emo with daddy issues. I think we deserve something stronger than Plum Wine." she looks to the others with puppy dog eyes and bats her eyelashes. "Don't you guys want to share a drink ritual with me? It'll be a great bonding experience if you remember it all the next day," she finishes with a grin.

"Line them up!" calls out Orithia as she slaps the table, "for I wish to drink with my sisters!"

"Yamas (cheers)!" the others call out.

Hitoshi laughs again. "Hey, the Plum wine is for me. This place can get it from as far back as nineteen eighteen vintage."

However, he signals Kemiko again. "Kemiko, Sake bombs for these fine ladies, and this distinguished gentleman, oh, and one for me as well. I won't be missing out."

He thinks for a minute. "Actually Kemiko, unpack the Shochu for later. as well."

"So is this where I discover the godly power of getting blind drunk and waking to find out this has all been a hallucination while I'm dying of dehydration in Afghanistan?" Alex asks no one in particular.

He looks at the sake bomb. "What are the rules?"

Hitoshi grins. "Just follow the examples of these fine ladies right here." he says setting up his own Sake bomb.

Alex watches Hitoshi set his sake bomb up and nods. "Ah, the Japanese version of the car bomb. Is it drop-and-chug?"

His question is answered as Lya and the Furies all unseat their sake glasses by slapping on the table, and downing the pint glass in a single pull.

"Round TWO!" shouts Toxic, as a second set of glasses is prepared. She smiles at Alex, half invitation and half wicked challenge.

"I'm gonna regret this," Alex says quietly, matching the Furies for another round ...

Hitoshi laughs. "Mr. North, I recommend you be very careful in accepting a challenge from these ladies, they regularly drink with Lya."

He drinks his Sake Bomb and sets the glass down, belching loudly. For a moment his face reddens and he looks embarrassed.

"Excuse me, I have no idea where that came from."

Evie laughs softly at everyone's antics. However, she politely turns down the sake bomb. As it stands, she's still nursing the sake from when they first arrived, "I think at least one of us needs to not wind up knee-walking drunk. Looks like I'm DD for the evening!"

She leans back in her chair and happily pops another piece of delectable sushi in her mouth, chewing with relish. The corners of her eyes crinkle into a happy smile as she watches the others.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "No Ofiicer cart... I mean Evie, I will stop drinking here in a bit giving myself plenty of time to sober up before time to take these ladies home."

"Please, call me Alex. 'Mr. North' reminds me of OCS," Alex says. "And, so far, this isn't bad. I remember one commissioning party where two friends went drink-for-drink and no repeats. It didn't end well.*"

"What is it they say? Kanpai!" he adds, quaffing his third.

"I say he folds on the next one," Klepto says, winking at Alex.

Phoebe shakes her head. "Five."

"Six and done," says Toxic, mimicking someone doing a face plant on the table.

Hitoshi looks at Alex and pulls out a 100 dollar bill. "I'll take your bets ladies. I say he drinks all of you under the Table."

"These ladies _have_ to keep up with the daughter of the god of wine, Hitoshi," Lya warns. "Unless his ability to heal covers the alcohol abuse we're about to commit on his liver." She chuckles. "Either way it's going to be fun to find out."

"Opa!" she shouts as the waitress brings another tray full of drinks.

"Aha! Finally!" Evie laughs as Hitoshi actually calls her by her nickname.

"Oh, no. I want to be dead sober for this. Later, when the rest of you are wondering what happened, I want to be able to hold the fact that I remember every drunken word and detail over your heads," she chortles happily, her threat merely a jest.

Hitoshi looks up from his drink. "Well I better say this now before you all get too drunk to remember."

"Watch, I bet he's gonna say he's a rich Son of a Bitch now." Toxic jokes.

"Actually I am." Hitoshi replies.

"Okay, start explaining." Orithia says setting down her drink. She nudges Phoebe. "This ought to be good."

"I didn't think I'd ever get to this point, but back before I met Lya, I won two thousand at the casino, and I did the smartest thing I could think of, I went to a Stock broker named James Sokatsu, and I invested it all. I bought ten shares of stock in The Westview grand, I mean I don't know why, but I did. I also bought a few shares in other small companies and such just to round out my portfolio. I, I, I left James with orders to reinvest the dividends as wisely as he could, and well umm that was that. I didn't think about it much, I figured I would end up tanking." Hitoshi speaks in a rush clearly worried, and nervous as hell.

He takes a drink of his plum wine, and drains the glass suddenly.

"Then about three months after the Japan incident James called me. My 10 shares over the years had split five times, and that he had taken the one hundred and sixty public shares and traded them for just forty. I thought he was a dumbass until he explained to me just what the forty was. Private shares in the company. Non Public. Suddenly I found myself sitting on the board of directors for the Westview Grand. I didn't want it at the time so James sat in my stead. It's been that way ever since then. Mom has finally annoyed me enough that Tomorrow at the meeting, I am going to sit on the board, just to shut her up."

"Right so how.." Toxic begins.

"One point Five Billion." Hitoshi says quickly.

"Fuck me." Toxic blurts out in amazement.

"That's not all. Mother has given me an interesting job offer. Director of Entertainment for the Casino. And before you ask, thankfully, I would answer to the board, and not to her. I'm strongly considering taking it, and no, not for the money. I could fucking care less about the money. It would enable to me do more for the band than just be a bodyguard."

He looks across the table at Lya. "It's more than the money. Half of my Dividends go to a rescue fund to help people around town."

"Oho. Now we're getting serious," Alex says, eyeing the bet Hitoshi lays on the table. "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."

He knocks the glass of sake into his fourth pint and downs it.

"Oh, gods. Goosh mornin, Misha Deee Ay, you wanna offer me ash job?" he laughs. "Frankly, I'm more interested in seeing if I can beat Toxic than getting the job with the Dish ... Districk ... fuck, DA."

"Congratulations!" Evie reaches over to give Hitoshi a hardy pat on the shoulder. She smiles happily at his fortune, glad to have some good news after having the weirdest week of her life.

She then looks at Alex and snickers, making internal bets with herself as to exactly when he's going to wind up face down in his sushi.

"Lessee, five for Phoebe, six for the lovely Toxic ..." Alex mumbled. "You know, I mysh jest be kidding. Could be stoned, I mean stone-cold sober. Where's five? Five!" He looks at Evie. "I'll take a cab home. Promish."

"Do more for the band..." Lya mutters as she slams the table a little harder than necessary to make the sake glass land in the beer with a 'plop.' She grabs the drink and stands as she chugs the glass to the encouraging cheers of "Chug! Chug!" from Klepto and Orithia.

She wobbles slightly as she sets the glass down and points a finger unsteadily at Hitoshi. "I'm doing just peachy without some rich boy having pity on the poor runaway, thank you very much." She falls back into her chair. " I told the same to Dio...dad... and now I'm telling youse...if you really care then be there when I need you, but keep your money to yourself...got it?"

She pulls her flask from out of her coat and mutters to herself before taking a drink. "Nobody pay attention to the CEO worth over a billion dollars as he tries to blend in and play security guard for his lessers...yeah _that_ will work."

"D-d-damn... tell us how you really feel," says Orithia.

"I didn't work this hard to get our band where it is just to have everyone think that the only reason we have anything is because _he_ gave it to us," Lya pouts.

Alex is partway through his fifth round when Lya expresses her opinion about Hitoshi's money, and nearly does a spit-take.

"Gotta stand for something," he agrees with no one in particular. "Not sure I'll be able to stand at all if I keep this up. Whouf."

Evie says nothing. Instead, she simply leans back in her chair and continues to munch on the goodies before her. She knows that Hitoshi and Lya have a history together, so she's not about to speak up and interfere in something that is obviously a personal matter between the two of them.

However, that won't stop her from watching any drama unfold.

Besides, she's keeping an eye on Alex. The poor man is obviously about three sheets to the wind, at this point. She's ready to reach over and rescue him if he does flop over in a drunken heap into the sushi.

She suppresses a tiny grin of mischief and pushes away the urge to poke Alex and see if he's like a Weebil. Does he wobble or does he fall down?

"Can't stop now. Gotta have sex ... have six with Toxic," Alex says. "Ohshit. Sorry, Toxic, that came out wrong."  
Nonetheless, Alex spends a moment doing a drunken laugh-snort as he cues up the sixth glass ...

"S'ok...I'll kill you later...if I remember anything after this..." Toxic replies shakily as she tries to focus enough to grab her next shot off the table.

"He shoots. He scores. Skoooooooooooooooal!" Alex says, downing his sixth pint. "Hey, shat's not as bad ash I thought. I can even say, 'Shupercalifragalisciousexperallydoses.'"

"He's still standing, Tox," groans Phoebe. "Well, sitting. I'm out."

"Lushy number seffin?" Alex slurs.

"I'd besher ... better not find out you've been drinking colored water," Toxic says. "Damn. You'd put Ulysses' men under the table."

"Practishing for Valhalla," Alex says. He fumbles with some of the empty glasses. "You really wanna keep goin'?"

Toxic looked him dead in the eyes. "There's nothing you could say to make me back down."

"Supercalifragilisticexpialadocious," Alex breathed, sitting up straight.

"Son of a bitch. You _are_ drinking colored water!"

"Nope. It's the real thing," Alex shrugged. "I noticed when I was drinking sake earlier that I felt a mild flush, and then, nothing. Lya, maybe your Dad knows how that works."

"Yanno, when I'm sober, I'mma beat you up," Toxic smiled.

Evie laughs aloud at this, "Of course! Your healing factor. You heal, you don't get sick...your body automatically handles anything detrimental, including alcohol. You're like our own, personal Wolverine!"

"You sly dog. You were hustling the ladies!" she chuckles.

"I honestly don't know if it's my healing ability," Alex says. "Getting shot isn't the same as getting drunk. It's probably related somehow, but I don't know how."

He fishes $100 out of his wallet. "There, that covers the bet Hitoshi made. I won, but it wasn't entirely fair, so it's not fair that you pay up."

"Hey I did warn you guys about his healing ability," Lya chuckles.

Lya runs her hands through her hair and sighs as she leans her elbows on the table. "Look, Hitoshi... this is... it's a lot to take. Your friendship has meant the world to me and you've been like the brother I never had... but you have to know this changes things, right?"

She grabs a Sapporo off the table and takes a swig. "You've skyrocketed yourself into this whole other life and now you expect things to stay the same... but society just doesn't _work_ like that. You practically took that hotel in a surprise business takeover so now everyone's going to be looking at you from the board members to the National Enquirer."

She takes a bigger swig of her beer. "Why do you think I never wanted to hit the big leagues with the band? Because I wanted to be free to do _what_ I wanted, _when_ I wanted, without having my actions questioned or controlled by others 'in my best interest.' I wanted everything that I got to be because I worked hard and _earned_ it. Now... if we're constantly seen together people are going to talk... you know? Doesn't matter if it's not true... in the world of entertainment it's all about _appearances_ and you've just radically changed yours. It's the same reason why I asked dad to let me live my life on my own terms."

She reaches over and puts her hand on his. "You will always be my best friend... but you've got to figure out what you're going to do with this new life of yours now."

Hitoshi sits through Lya's rant and waits. He looks her dead in the eye. "If I have to wear Shinobi shozoku and hide in the stage lights just to come to your shows, or do the Scion things that we need to do, I will. You and the Furies are my family, and you all mean more to me than life itself."

He takes her hand in his. "I'll figure this out, you know this." Then he grins that infectious grin. "I always find a way."

"I'm sure you will, Hitoshi. If you start wearing a super hero costume though you better look cool though... none of that cape shit," Lya snorts.

"Oooh... we could call im' the Super Sword..." adds Orithia with a giggle as Toxic splutters.

"Secret Aaaaasian Man," Klepto sings drunkenly as Phoebe shakes her head and laughs.

Hitoshi straightens his tie and gives his most dashing look. "The namesh Ryder... Hitoshi Ryder..." He busts out laughing unable to hold a straight face.

"Okay okay, even I admit that was silly. Remind me to sqay no if the CIA comes to recruit. Now, I have a bit of a treat for you all. In my free time over the years I... well, I picked up a musical skill other than Kareoke, and I was wondering if you would like to listen to my music for once."

"Hey knock yourself out, Hitoshi... " Lya replies as she leans back in her chair. "It's nice to get be the one in the audience sometimes."

"Want us to move some tables for the mosh pit?" Toxic snorts.

Hitoshi laughs. "Nono Toxic. No Mosh pit needed."

He pours himself a glass of plum wine, snifs it and takes a sip. "Thats a damn good vintage."

Picking up the glass he walks up to the white baby grand piano and lifts the key cover before sitting down.

"Now, I might be a bit rusty, so please bear with me."

The waitress goes and closes the door to the bar, cutting off the noise of kareoke.

Hitoshi bows his head for a moment then begins to play.

Richard Marx - Right Here Waiting For You (Piano Cover)

He has a bit of an off start but after a few seconds, everything smooths out. For the first time anyone looking at him sees him at peace, there's no inner turmoil that always lies behind the surface, no tension.

When he gets done with that song he pauses and begins another one.

Komplete 9 with Alicia Keys Piano Sound - Shinjirareba Koso - Gundam Wing Destiny - Jarvis Huy Phan

The second one done, he pauses again. "Sorry, I think I'm still a bit rusty." He says, even though everyone else can see he's not.

Titanic Piano - My Heart Will Go On

Finishing, he closes the key cover and sits at the piano a moment more before standing and walking down the steps back to the table. He bows slightly when a few other patrons clap. Quietly he sits in his chair and with eyes closed takes a long sip of his.

"Rusty, hell," Alex says. "That was really good. I mean, when I sing, I have this really bad habit of going out of my range. Any way, I think I'm going to pack it in. I've got a meeting with the DA. Wish me luck." He slaps a twenty on the table and parks an empty glass on it, indicating it's a tip for their waitress. "Night, Toxic. Thanks for being a good sport."

"That was beautiful, Hitoshi! Thank you for playing for us," Evie smiles, appreciating seeing this side of her new friend.

"Good luck!" she calls to Alex, giving him a friendly wave. "Drive safe."

She stretches and yawns. It's been a long day, "I need to skedattle, too. I'm supposed to be off, tomorrow, but I want to work some more on my regular cases. I don't want to let what I am doing as scion make me fall behind."

"Heh," she grins. "Plus, I'm going to have to sneak around to do it. If Saul catches me at HQ, he'll fuss at me about over-working."

Evie takes out a $20, as well, and puts it down as tip, "Thank you for inviting me out with you guys! I had a great time."

"Whoozawha?" mumbles Toxic as she sits up suddenly. "I didn't pass out... nobody can prove anything!"

"That imprint of a spoon on your cheek says differently," chuckles Klepto. "It's been fun, kiddos... but Alex is right, we should get some sleep and prepare ourselves for the battle to come."

"That was some pretty stuff, Hitoshi," Lya says as she stands up and puts her coat on. "A nice mellow lullaby to end a chaotic night. I'm sure you've got business meetings galore to keep you busy now though, so I think the girls and I are going to head home. Right, Phoebe?" she laughs and kicks the leg of the chair as Phoebe lifts her head from her hand. "It was a pleasure Alex...Evie... and I hope we'll have more reasons to celebrate soon. Time for the ramblers to get rambling!"

"Right! Ready to go!" Phoebe replies as she sits up and blinks rapidly. "Night, Hitoshi... that was very lovely, and thank you for dinner. The karaoke will have to wait for next time."

"Oooo I want to sing some Joan Jett!" exclaims Orithia as she grabs her coat and puts her arm around Toxic's shoulders as they all head out the door.

"Crimson and clover... ooooover and ooooover..."

HItohsi smiles and nods. "Make it home safe gals." He watches as they leave, and then stands, handing the cash tips to Kemiko, and adding a twenty of his own.

Walking back into the Kitchen he takes off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves grabbing a busboy's tray, he goes out and clears the dishes off their table and brings them back.

"No Hitoshi, you don't have to do that, you have done so much for the resturant already." The owner says.

Hitoshi waves him away. "I help out my friends Kenjiro, and I count you and your daughter among them. Let me do this. I'll pay for the food afterwards."

Hitoshi gets done with the dishes, sweeps the floor, and then pays for the meal.

"Have a good night Kemiko." He waves at the woman as he heads out to his car, and then heads home.


	11. Repercussions

(Late Friday Night - Outside The Dive)

There's a crowd outside The Dive. It's not unusual to find a handful of people making their farewells or grabbing a smoke - something forbidden _inside_ the bar, as they offer food, even if it's nuked nachos and greasy burgers. But tonight is different. A newsprint banner hangs in the window, bearing the message EVERYTHING MUST GO, and there are price tags hung on some of the bar's furnishings. Not actual 'Table w/ 4 Chairs, $50' tags, but harshly mocking ones specifying body parts or first-born sons.

"Lya!" calls the owner. "How'd the show go? Hope you had more fun than this fucking disaster zone." That's morose, even for Cyndi.

"Want something? It's on the house," she says. "Fucking bastards."

"What happened? The health department riding your ass again?"

"Worse," Cyndi snorts. "Lost the lease. We're getting evicted."

"Evicted?" you ask.

"Yeah. But it's not just me," she says solemnly. "Sorry, girl."

"No. Oh, no. They didn't," you say.

Cyndi shrugs.

You make your way up the stairs to your apartment. It's not the glamorous abode of a rock star, but it's a place to hang your hat. It's home. Or was. There's forbidding red tape across it, with a shiny new padlock next to an eviction notice ...

"Fuck me..." Lya mutters as she takes two of the safety pins off her jacket. "They think this is the first time I've had to break into my own home?" she says to herself as she crouches to inspect the padlock. She runs her hand through her hair and pulls her cell phone out of her pocket. "Klepto? Yeah it's me... looks like that lying bastard moves fast. Do me a favor and bring the van, would you? Looks like I'm moving again...thanks."

She puts the phone back in her pocket and takes a deep breath before focusing on the lock with her safety pins. After a few moments there's a satisfying click before she breathes out and smiles. "At least hanging with those assholes was good for something," She pulls town the red tape with a swipe of her hand and opens the door to find clothes strewn all over, drawers hanging open, and empty bottles and cans all over the floor along with overfilled ashtrays and broken CD cases.

"Well... at least they didn't mess with my room," Lya chuckles. "Better grab what's important."

She bends down and pulls a dusty olive green dufflebag out from under her bed before grabbing her pillow, a toothbrush, her make-up kit, a handful of clothes off the floor, and a photo of her and Hitoshi when she first moved in with him. She then unfolds her ratty old bloodstained hideaway couch that smells of dog piss and beer (left that way on purpose after she found it on the curb to dissuade the curious) to reveal not a mattress, but a storage compartment where she pulls out her amp, guitar, and microphone stand.

There's a knock of the door and Lya turns around to see Klepto leaning against the doorjam. "Damn, girl... did they take anything?"

"Nah... nothing important, anyway," Lya replies.

"Looks like they could've destroyed the place and you've been out...what... twenty bucks?"

Lya laughs as she spreads her arms. "The joys of living without material attachments!"

"Hey, Toxic has the van downstairs..." says Orithia as she walks up behind Klepto. "You need a hand with anything?"

"Just got the bag and the instruments, really. We're not heading out yet, though... I can't just leave Cyndi in the lurch like that. This wasn't just our home, you know?"

"What are you thinking, Lya?" asks Klepto curiously as they grab her things and she proceeds to re-lock her apartment.

"How do you guys feel about a little fundraiser?"

"After that little drinking contest with Alex?" Toxic rolls her eyes. "I'm not as think as you drunk I am, ocifer. Fuck, yeah."

"Sure. The problem is never being drunk, it's sobering up in the morning," Orithia laughs. "Let's do it."

"Yo, Cyndi... I think we'll take you up on those beers now," Lya calls out as she sets down her gear and they grab some of the seats left at the bar.

Cyndi chuckles as she opens the cooler. "Well that didn't take long..."

"Hey, it's me!" Lya replies with a wink. "Nothing I haven't been through before... but I hate the fact that they're putting all of you guys out too. That kind of crap just won't stand with me, ya know?"

Cyndi shakes her head and chuckles weakly as she passes out 5 beers from the tap. "I don't know if we can save this place, Lya... it really _is_ a dump. It was only a matter of time before they condemned the place."

"Yeah, that may be the case... but we can still help you and all the other people who lived and worked here," Lya replies. "It's not right that you're all getting kicked to the curb like that."

"We don't forget our friends," Klepto adds.

"And we don't let our sisters suffer when something can be done about it," Toxic finishes as the others nod.

"All right then..." Cyndi replies as she pours herself her own beer. "What do you all have in mind?"

"I say we have a little fundraiser concert...a party to end all parties so the Dive can live on in infamy, and everyone getting kicked out can have enough money to be able to move on without having to worry where their next meal or night's sleep is going to be," Lya replies with a grin. "I mean what are they going to do... close the place down?"

"Toga...toga...toga...toga..." the Furies begin to chant...

"I think they want to tear it down, redevelop the lot and put some tony apartments in," Cyndi frowned. "At least, that's the vibe I got off the smarmy shithead that delivered the good news around 11PM."

"Weasely little fucker, thin face, swept-back black hair, fancy suit?" Lya asked.

"Yeah, that's him. Fancy edu-ma-cation kinda guy, lots of five-dollar words," Cyndi said. "You've seen him before?"

"He was at the performance," Toxic says. It might not be entirely true, but he was there afterwards, and had implied he was responsible for siccing Wolfgang or whatever _it_ was on Hitoshi.

"Even more reason to throw this party, I say. That weasel-faced fuck seems to have it out for a lot of my friends because I didn't want to be a part of his 'hostile takeover', Cyndi... and I'm really sorry he involved you guys. " Lya sighs before taking a long drink of her beer. "We're going to throw a party that'll guarantee nobody ever forgets the Dive... and that'll get you and everyone else here a chance to get out of Vegas before the shit _really_ hits the fan."

She finishes her beer. "Cyndi, if you can make sure that everybody that lived upstairs has safely cleared out by Saturday, we're going to make a few calls and get the ball rolling on this."

She turns to the Furies. "I figure since this is a charity event, maybe Hitoshi's company wouldn't mind donating so they can have a tax write-off next year."

"Especially since the show won't be anywhere near the casino," Phoebe laughs.

"What about..._you know?_ " asks Orithia in a whisper.

"I wonder if Officer Evie knows anyone in the Gang Crimes Bureau?" Lya replies. "If not I'm sure they'd love an anonymous tip on their hotline letting them know the Lobos are starting shit for no reason."

"Well, the party's over after closing," Cyndi frowned. "Mister Smarm said he'd be gracious and allow us to stay through closing. Otherwise, everything - at least, anything we want to keep - has to be out tomorrow."

"Damn... well I guess we need to work quick, then!" Lya exclaimed in surprise. "Ok girls, gather round so I can catch you all on the phone, because it's time to use the best advertising there is: the Internet."

The Furies scoot closer together at the bar while Cyndi hops up on the bar behind them and Lya stands in front of them all with her phone as she activates her webcam.

"Hey there my furious friends, Lya and the Furies and my good friend Cyndi are all here at the Dive and it's time to get angry because yours truly just found out that some rat-faced company man is closing down the Dive for good tonight to make way for some...ew... get this... _condos!_ "

(Toxic and the others wave at the camera)

I say fuck that shit! If they're going to tear down our home then we're going to make sure the memories of this place will outlive any piece of crap condos by having the party to end all parties... the concert that everybody will remember... Lya's Baccchanal!

(the Furies cheer behind her cheer and start chanting toga...toga...toga...)

That's right... we're talking a toga party, people... with enough wine, women and song that even the Gods will take notice! So rip up those sheets and grab a few bucks because we're not going to leave our own out on the streets, no matter what THE MAN says!"

"We stand up for each other!" exclaims Orithia.

"We fight for each other!" exclaims Toxic.

"And we play like there's no tomorrow," finishes Lya. "So be here with us tonight as the Dive goes down for the count, but its spirit lives on! Eua!"

"Eua!" the others roar as Lya turns off the camera and starts posting it to everything from Youtube, Facebook, and every other social site she can think of.

"There... that should be a good start. Cyndi, if you can make some signs for outside and start spreading word with the customers, we've got to go get our gear, make some flyers, and talk to some people. We'll be back soon!"

Lya swipes open her phone and gives Hitoshi a call while they all pile into their van and Klepto takes the wheel.

"Hitoshi! Lya... was wondering if we could meet, because I've got a business proposition for you. No... it's nothing illegal, I swear... more like our Mr. Lying Bastard fucking with my friends. We're holding an impromptu charity concert for The Dive since that bastard pulled the lease and is closing the place down. Maybe we could meet for coffee?"

Lya rolls her eyes as laughing is heard over the line. "Yeah, you heard me... it's going to be a long night so I figured I could use the extra boost. I'll have them drop me off over at the MadHouse and I'll meet you there to explain the rest."

"So what's the plan?" Klepto asks as she watches the road.

"I'm going to leave the van with you guys so you all can take care of the flyers," Lya replies as she fishes out a wad of cash from her wallet. "Here's $100 so that should be plenty to get them printed out and you guys can spread the word around town."

"You'll be ok by yourself?" asks Phoebe.

"Hitoshi will be there eventually, and I'm hoping our Officer Evie might have a moment as well."

"Well they do serve some fantastic doughnuts there," Orithia says with a giggle.

"Hey now... she's good people," Lya admonishes as they pull in to the parking lot for the MadHouse Coffee House. She opens the door but looks back for a moment. "You're right, though... the doughnuts are choice!" she winks and hops out to close the van door. "If things go south, I know where to find you," she says as she taps the door and watches the van leave before she walks towards the entrance and pulls out her phone again.

"Officer Cartwright! Ok...Evie... wasn't sure if I should call you something else when you're on duty or not," Lya chuckles. "Would you have a moment to share a cup of coffee and some important discussion between friends? It seems our mutual acquaintance from last night is moving fast and I'm going to need your help." she opens the door to the cafe and walks in to the smells of coffee and warm baked goods. "Awesome... I'll see you when you can get here."

Hitoshi sighs as he climbs into his mustang, and takes off across town for the coffee house. He pulls up about fifteen minutes later, and after finding a place to park he walks inside and sits down, running a hand through his hair.

"So Lya, whats the Situation, and how can I help?"

"Some goofy guy in New Jersey who thinks he's a TV star," Lya jokes before taking a sip of her double-espresso white chocolate latte. "Seems Lyman has his eye on real estate... specifically the lot where the Dive and my home used to be."

"Used?" Hitoshi asks with a raised eyebrow as he sits back.

"Yup... as of tomorrow morning the Dive is no more, because Lyman has plans on leveling the whole place to turn it into some condos," Lya sighs. "I can't just let everyone get kicked out on the street with no jobs or no homes like that... especially because it's my fault for telling him to fuck off."

"Hence the proposition you said you have?""

"Exactly. The Furies and I are going to throw a bacchanal the likes this town has _never_ seen so we can raise some money to help all the innocent people being effected by this. A regular toga party, Hitoshi... it'll be fab! I've broadcast the news over the internet and the girls are putting up flyers as we speak... I just figured your company might want to do some charity work so they can write it off on their taxes next year, you know?"

Hitoshi frowns. "Excuse me Lya, I need to go make a phone call." He stands and walks outside, dialing up James on his phone.

"James, it's Hitoshi. We've got a problem. Someone beat us to the Dive bar and the apartments above and around it, only their plan isn't to rescue the area. All the tenants received eviction notices tonight, including Lya and the Furies. Bastard plans on building high class expensive condos. Any way we can stone wall this bastard and get the eviction overturned?"

"It is possible," said James. "I will inquire as to the eviction process as well as construction permits for the planned condominiums. If they are not ready to begin construction, then I believe the evictions could be contested as premature."  
"We have contacts at the City Planning Commission from when the Westview added the new parking structure," he added. "However, we do _not_have a friendly judge to hand."

Evie pulls up to the shop in her old Camry, quickly finding a place to park. Seeing Hitoshi standing outside, his phone to his ear, she gives him a silent nod and smile as greeting before moving on in to find Lya.

She slides chair opposite Lya, a frown already firmly in place, "This can't be legal. In fact, I'm pretty positive that it's not. As I recall, eviction notices have to be given at least...30 days, I think?...prior. This isn't my area of expertise, but I think there are laws are in place to make it difficult for building owners to simply eject people without giving them ample time to either correct whatever is wrong or find a new place to live."

"Was anyone notified beforehand that these buildings were to be leveled? 'Cause, as slimy as Mr. Lyman is, he isn't a Vogon. He can't plow over everything all willy-nilly," she drums her fingers on the table. "Have you called Alex to ask him? He's probably more well-versed in these laws than I am."

"Considering this a-hole has money and power I didn't think I should even bother, honestly," Lya replies with a shrug. "This might be Alex's bag though... a regular David &amp; Goliath story he might sink his teeth into. I'll call him next. The main reason I called you though Evie is that there's a good chance the Lobos will try and pull something." she sips her coffee and grins. "So I figured a nice anonymous tip to the gang task force might be in order."

* * *

Alex dropped onto his living room sofa with a handful of mail that was quickly sorted, bills on the side table, ads and catalogs into the trash. Back to the bedroom, where he laid out clothes for the next day. Lights out.

His smartphone rang, the screen casting its bluish glow on the ceiling. He glanced at it, saw that it was a call from Lya. He was awake at once, a trick he'd learned in the Army.

"Hey, Lya. I didn't do something silly like leave my credit card on the table, did I?" he joked.

"If that was the case I'd be inviting you to drink a bottle of Vieille Bon Secours Ale with me," Lya chuckles. "But as it is it's just coffee... and a little conversation about real estate law involving our mutual acquaintance Mr. Lyman. I've got a charity concert in the works tonight to help the people being effected, but I'm going to need your assistance on the legal side, my friend. Think you can join us at the MadHouse?"

"Yeah, give me about twenty minutes," he said, already donning jeans, a faded Army t-shirt, and a set of desert combat boots.

The plus side of the late-night meeting at the MadHouse was that it was just as the first offerings of the night's baking were coming out of the oven. College students and locals all knew it was one of the best times to hit the place. He stopped at the front counter for coffee and a cinnamon roll before joining Lya and the others.

Evie nods and gives Lya a fierce smile, "I do believe Mr. Lyman may be making a mistake with this. If he wants to play in the legal ring, that's fine...but it is the **legal** ring. Just because he's got money and power doesn't mean that he can do anything he pleases."

"Unless..." here, the detective pauses and leans back in her chair, stifling a yawn. "This is just a diversion to draw our attention elsewhere. He knows that Alex and I are both officers and that we'd rally to your cause. He's got to know that, unless this was something in the works weeks in advance, we'd be able to at least delay him. I wonder if he's got something else up his sleeve."

"As far as the tip, absolutely! I can call that in. I don't know the head of the department personally, but I do have their number. What time were you going to have the concert?" Evie asks.

After she gets a few details from Lya, she calls up HQ.

"Hey, Jimmy. This is Evie. Can you put me through to Garcia? Thanks," there is a pause as she waits for the call to transfer. "Hey, this is Detective Cartwright. I got an anonymous tip, this evening, that there may be gangs that might want to cause some trouble."

"Yeah, so here's what's happening: earlier this evening there was a hit over at Westview Grand and then trouble at a concert there. Now, the band who was playing (and whose concert was interrupted) come home to find out that they are being evicted. They are going to have a fundraising concert, tonight at The Dive, so that folks can at least have a hotel room to stay in and not be on the street in the morning. There is some concern that gang activity may happen in this instance, considering the way the evening has been going for them, so far."

"Now, I don't know if it will or won't, but it sounds like an opportunity for something to happen. And, if you have anyone that likes punk music...can't hurt to have someone there, ya know?"

"I've read enough comic books to know that Loki is full of diversions," Lya agrees. "Thanks for the assist, Evie. I'd say share the word about the concert with your brother, but I don't know if anything dangerous might be going down and I don't want him to get hurt."

"So what do you think, Alex... could it be that this guy isn't just trying to stick it to me by closing down the bar and evicting everyone? What if he's already 2 steps ahead of us and knew we'd be having this very conversation because I'd need legal help?"

Lya sips her coffee in thought. "I tell you... if you've got anything else important going on right now, I'd double check and think twice about _everything._ When the gods are involved, _nothing_ is coincidence."

"Oh, you mean like the District Attorney wanting to offer me a job?" Alex said. "Any filings or legal consultations will be at the family-and-friends price." He took a sip of his coffee.

"So, first off, there are several different kinds of eviction orders," he explained. "Nuisance orders are essentially fix-it-or-else orders. Then there's the full eviction for non-payment of rent, safety hazards, and so on. Once the notice has gone by, there's a secondary period of one to two weeks before you can show up and toss people out, and the landlord is obligated to store tenants' belongings for thirty days."

"The problem is, even if the notice was improperly served, it's binding until a judge can rule otherwise, and that will be on Monday morning," Alex said. "If the landlord doesn't check to see that the order is being contested, and doesn't show up in court, it will most likely get vacated. Which brings us back to your point. Why do this now? Is it forcing you to move somewhere or do something that they can benefit from?"

"We need to find a friendly Judge. Hold on, I have Alex North with us, I will see what he has to say on the issue. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Thanks James," Hitoshi says as he ends the call and slides his phone back in his pocket before heading back inside.

"My contact says that if the construction is not ready to begin, the evictions may be premature. He's got contacts at the City Planning Commission, but we don't have a friendly Judge."

"Unfortunately the people would still be shit out of luck while it was tied up in a legal battle," Lya sighs.

"You've got me, Alex," Lya replies with a shrug. "Sure it's annoying, but it's nothing I haven't been through before. Besides, I can fit everything I own in my van. I figured it was to keep me busy so I can't look into what he's _really _doing somewhere else. Because really... The Dive? Sure it was home... but it really is a dump."

She takes a bite of a cruller and chews for a moment. "If I was more into computers instead of music, I'd say we should see if we can track any _other _business dealings this guy is into right now to see where he might _really_ be focusing his attention. Like they say in the movies... 'follow the money.' If there's something that he's doing that doesn't involve one of us in some way, chances are it might lead us to his _actual_ plans, you know?' Hey Hitoshi... you're the one with the business contacts... do you have someone you can trust who could look into that angle?"

"Yea, I can see if James knows anyone who can look into those dealings. He may be looking into it as we speak as a while bundle deal for us." He signals the waitress. "Miss, I'd like an Iced Chai Tea Latte please. Thanks."

"Hmm. This is the kind of stuff the late Armand Roget would do," Alex mused. "And Roget had my half-brother buried under his building. I haven't found out if Roget had left anything behind, but it wouldn't surprise me to find Lyman or some other puppet benefiting."

"I'm not sure there needs to be a Big Plan," he adds. "But you told him 'no' to his weaselly little face. Hitoshi, as well. I wouldn't be surprised if this was just to push us around a bit. You've been evicted, even if it's temporary. The _Lobos_ started a fight at the casino. I've been shot twice. Evie, I'd wonder what surprise he has in store for you."

"I wouldn't put it past Lymann to go after anyone's family either, so figure out a way to keep those you love safe." Hitoshi replies as he looks out at the bright lights of the strip reflected against the night sky.

"Everyone in my family is on the East Coast," Alex said. "Lya, even if Lyman owns the building and has plans to demolish it, the eviction notices were improperly served, and I can at least buy some time for you and the other tenants to relocate."

"Look, I wasn't going to bring this up, but James and I had a plan to buy the Dive and the Apartments around it and fix them all up for those living there. We were only a week away from laying out the proposal. That area of town is a piece of Vegas history. Alex, is there any way we can appeal to the Vegas Historical Society to put in a motion to preserve the buildings as historical landmarks?" Hitoshi pays the waitress for his Latte and takes a long sip. He coughs. "Damn that's got some sugar in it."

Lya coughs as she sets down her coffee. "The Dive a historical landmark? I've got to tell Cyndi _that_ one. Unfortunately everyone is getting kicked out _tonight,_ so as nice a thought as that is, unless you've got some judges you all can wake up in the middle of the night I'm not sure it's going to help in time, Hitoshi. Not to mention that these people lived in a dump because that was all they could afford. I think they'd be better served if your company wanted to donate towards the charity fund."

"Well that will keep everyone from having to do some late-night relocation, so I appreciate it Alex," Lya replies with a smile. "Really, thanks to all of you for helping. You're all more family to me than my mom ever was, and dad... well..." she takes her flask out of her coat and discretely pours a little into her coffee, "I'd like to think he appreciates what I do, but I know in the end I'm just one on a long list of results from his one night stands over the ages."

She takes a sip of her coffee. "Ah! That's the stuff!" Her phone rattles against the table as it vibrates and she looks down to read a text on her screen. "Looks like the girls have done what they could to plaster posters around town and they're headed back this way. I need to get back to the Dive so we can prep the stage for tonight."

"So... am I going to get to see you guys in togas tonight?" she grins slyly. "I'm sure it'll look better on you all than horned helmets and fur... or in Hitoshi's case horned helmets and lamellar."

"Not sure the apartments would qualify," Alex said. "But I'll call Max Bayer over at the Planning Commission and follow up on who owns the lot and if any plans for new construction have been submitted. The thing about lies, good lies, is the mileage they get because they're believable."

"It doesn't matter that the eviction order was filed improperly. Lyman may not even own the building. No one questioned the lie because it's a run down apartment complex and a seedy bar.

"It's the same bullshit he was trying to sell you, Lya. Join the Dark Side, and the people don't matter," Alex frowned. "It's a convenient lie. You decide in favor of new, shiny developments and condos, of 'progress' and you don't notice what you're being asked to throw under the bus."

"Well people are going to notice tonight if I have anything to say about it, because we're not going down without a very _loud_ fight," Lya replies.

"I just wish I knew what his deal was. Is he just gathering friends and money and waiting for Ragnarok, or is he doing something more... non-conventional to make sure he comes out on top?"

A van pulls up outside and honks as Orithia waves out the window.

"Well there's my ride, guys... I hope you all stop by to catch the action!" she stands up and grabs her coat. "Seriously... _togas,"_ she winks as she leaves.

Evie sighs and leans back in her seat at Hitoshi's words. It's true. She wouldn't at all put it past Lyman to go after people's families and, unfortunately in this particular case, all of her immediate family lives in Vegas or nearby towns. She has extended family in other states, but...doesn't everyone? A knot of fear and worry forms in her gut. How can she convince them to leave for a bit without coming off as batshit insane?

When Lya asks if they are coming, Evie nods, "I'll be there. I can't promise a toga, though! Undignified, you know. I only show up to these things with my spear and magic helmet." She gives her new friend a tired grin. She may be ready for bed, but she's not about to let Lya and the others be there without backup.

"As long as it doesn't involve getting shot and fighting Einjehar, I'm game," Alex chuckles. "Not sure about the toga, though."

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. "And what in the heck is an Einjehar?"

"Your friend from the dance floor," Alex explains. "It's a warrior summoned from Valhalla to fight. So they're generally tough bastards who go all-in, because they have no fear of dying. Which is why the police don't have a body ... and you don't have to worry about a mess at the casino."

"Huh. Thought he was on a little more than PCP. Even the PCP nut jobs stop attacking after a point. So umm excuse my little knowledge of your Pantheon, but if they Come from Valhalla, then shouldn't Loki and his children NOT have access to them because you know, he's a bad guy, and all around asshole? Sounds like someone up there dropped the ball." Hitoshi clearly has an annoyed look on his face, and tone in his voice.

"There's generally more than one side in a war," Alex says. "The warriors of Vahalla come from both sides. Nothing matters but courage. Loyalty. Honor. You don't have to be Nordic, you don't have to worship the All-Father, you don't have to be on the winning side."

"And I don't know how to summon one, so I don't know if it would be forbidden to Loki and his kids. But if someone could exploit a loophole, it'd be them. They're more slippery than a shady lawyer, and I've seen more than a few."

'Huh. Me thinks that those rules of Valhalla should be changed, but then I'm Japanese, Not Nordic, and you won't see me there when I die." Hitoshi shrugs and continues to drink his Latte.

"That's a shame," Evie muses. "You guys are good friends. I'd hate to think that, after we bite the big one, that we wouldn't get to hang out and share stories in the afterlife."

She smiles, wanders over to the counter and orders up a coffee, "Load that sucker up with sugar, please."

Sitting back down at the table, she continues, "Maybe there's an afterlife visitation program!" She chuckles.

"I'm not even sure we qualify. Not because we're lacking in courage or valor, but ... we're the children of the gods," Alex said. "I mean, I didn't know I could take a bullet until two days ago. So ... are we becoming more powerful, somehow? Maybe it's tied up with this whole war-of-the-gods thing. Nature abhors a vacuum and all that."

"We must be. As far as I can tell, Dad didn't tap me until it was absolutely necessary. I have a feeling that had this war continued to stew in the background, I'd still be merrily traipsing along, clueless," she thinks for a second. "The enemy is upping the game. So, our side has to step up, as well."

"I suppose a set of instructions would be too easy," Alex smiled. "Do we grow into a lesser version of our parents? Or is it like any human kid, you grow up to be what you want to be? I mean, to be honest, when Lyman threw out that barb about being like my old man, I was serious about beating the tar out of him. I had no doubt in my mind about my ability to do so."

"I suppose it's like any other kid. You grow up to be what you want to be, but you have genetics that predispose you towards one thing or another. I could see, though, how having divine genes might override the human genes," she shrugs. "Or, maybe the human genes temper and filter the divine genes. Maybe a bit of both. But, heck...I'm looking at something that may well be magical through a scientific lens, and that may not work at all."

Evie muses, a thoughtful expression on her face, "Now, that would be something to research. I wonder if anyone in the Human Genome Project is a scion and if they've done any research on it? That would be neat to read!"

"WIth our luck, it'd be someone from Lyman's side of the fence, trying to muddy the waters ... or even find a way to 'turn it off'," Alex said. "Or, maybe the whole point of interbreeding with humans was to capitalize on some trait the gods lack. Empathy. Creativity. Whatever."

"We should ask Lya, later, and get her input."

Hitoshi finshes off his Latte and stands. "Well, We've done all we can here. I'm heading home, I have that board meeting tomorrow." He nods. "Have a good night you two, and remember, be careful." With that said he pays his bill, and heads out to his vehicle, heading home from there.

* * *

(Saturday Afternoon - Alex Meets Dist. Attorney Clemens)

The Las Vegas Country Club was an oasis in the middle of the city itself, featuring a full golf course, a half-dozen tennis courts, and a five-star restaurant. He knew the District Attorney well enough to favor dress casual – essentially a jacket and dress shirt sans tie. Clemens, of course, would be fresh off the links, wearing designer golf apparel, looking like a male fashion model, rather than the DA. Still, Clemens had parlayed his ready smile and camera-ready good looks into a solid political career.

"Alex!" Clemens called from the panoramic glass doors leading out onto the concourse. "Good to see you."

"Chris."

"So this is the infamous Alex North," said a woman as she walked up beside the District Attorney. "Our table is ready, Christopher."

"Alex, this is Sunny."

"Soleil Hunter," the woman said, offering Alex a firm handshake. She was Clemens' rival in eye-catching appeal, dressed in a silk sheath dress of pale green that came down to mid-thigh, with a pair of matching espadrilles. Long blonde hair cascaded down to her shoulders, and crystal blue eyes challenged those who dared to meet them.

"One of my best prosecutors. I imagine she'd even give you a run for your money," Clemens laughed.  
"So I've heard. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hunter."

"Soleil. Or Sunny," she smiled. "We're not in court."

"Shall we?" Clemens motioned towards the grill. "Something to drink, Alex?"

"Ice water is fine."

Clemens nodded at one of the waiters. A tall glass was presented as Alex took his seat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Clemens; Ms. Hunter; Mr. North," the waiter greeted them. "The specials today are a flame-broiled Rainbow Trout with grilled asparagus drizzled with balsamic vinegar; and a ceviche salad with a basil vinaigrette."

"The ceviche salad, please," said Soleil.

"Steak sandwich, with the onion strings," Clemens added. "Medium-rare."

"I'll have the trout," Alex said. "Soleil, are you from Vegas? Where did you go to school?"

"California," Soleil replied. "Hastings Law School. Had some offers from good firms, but an opportunity to be ADA? I was on the next flight out."

Clemens was the typical Ivy League golden boy, a Harvard graduate. He regaled Soleil Hunter with the story of Alex's chopper being shot down.

"I'm impressed. Not many mort- men could survive a three-day hike across hostile ground," she said, then added quickly, "I'm sorry, is this a touchy subject?"

Alex waved it off. "A little, but it's okay. We just lost some good men that day." _Mortals,_ Alex noted. _A slip, Ms. Hunter? Or are you another piece on the board and you want me to know it?  
_  
"I understand," Soleil said. She flashed her charming smile again. "Chris had also said you took on the NYPD in a wrongful death suit?"

"That was several years ago," Alex said.

"It's why he has a reputation for protecting the innocent," Chris smiled. "The media loves that kind of zeal. The Vernon case? They couldn't sing his praises loud enough. We can use someone like that in our house. What do you say, Alex? Pay's better, benefits package, 401K, we can even expedite a concealed carry permit."

Hunter followed up with a dazzling smile. "Don't just sit there. Say yes."

Alex stared blankly for a second, as if any reasons he had to turn the offer down had evaporated in the warmth of Soleil's smile. He took a sip of water, looked out the picture window as he marshalled his thoughts.

"Chris, it's a tempting offer," Alex shook his head. "But you understand that if it comes to a point where I have to choose between my job and seeing justice fairly done, I'll walk."

"Look, I'll be the first to admit my last term was pretty rocky," Clemens allowed. "We were like every other shop in the country, backlogged like crazy, roster full of second-string counsel, short on people who could handle lead. Sunny came in and helped set the pace. We're current, we've brought the right people up, let go one or two who weren't working out. We're lean and mean."

"Take him up to $85K," Hunter said.

"If it'll close the deal, sure," Clemens agreed readily. "There it is, Alex. $85K. That's more than commensurate with your experience."

"We need someone like you on the team, Alex," Soleil said, looking directly into his eyes. "Tell us you'll at least consider it."

Alex could feel the persuasive force of Soleil Hunter's personality, and understood why Clemens had brought her along. She'd be someone who could upend your case with a compelling close, and leave you wondering how and where you'd dropped the ball. Or, if she was a Scion, did her gifts run towards dazzling men with her fashion model looks? What was the old saying? _Keep your friends close, and your enemies, closer.  
_  
"I'll have to see what's on my desk," Alex said. "I don't think I have anything headed to trial. If I do, I'll want to see it through."

"Excellent. Get back to me on that as soon as you can, so I can make the announcement."

"You know the newsies will be more interested in the attempted drive-by," Alex warned.

"We'll make it clear we're not taking any questions on the subject," Clemens smiled. "So. Welcome to the team. It'll open a few doors for you, make some new friends I think you'll find worthwhile."

The lunch meeting concluded with a handshake from Clemens and a kiss on the cheek from Soleil Hunter. The understanding was that he would spend the next week closing down his private practice, and join the District Attorney's office the week after.

The manager caught him on the way out. "Mr. North? Mr. Clemens has informed me that you are now with the District Attorney's office. This comes with membership and full privileges. So, here is your membership packet and ID card, and welcome to the Las Vegas Country Club."

"Thank you," Alex said automatically. He glanced through the packet, which contained a printed copy of the membership agreement, a series of cards showing the various amenities, and an embossed membership card bearing his name.

He drove back home, still feeling uncomfortable about accepting the job offer. It was hard to not see it as a bribe, a move by the enemy to diminish the influence of his dedication to protecting the innocent. Better pay, improved financial security, perks like country club membership ...

... and less autonomy. Less of a connection to the real world, the human world. But right now, it wasn't anything he couldn't walk away from. Something else would happen, something to set the hook and reel the fish in. Perhaps a case, perhaps working more closely with Soleil Hunter. She was already familiar with his past, and Alex imagined she knew a bit more than what she'd learned from Chris Clemens.

Her credentials would check out, of course. They had to. That didn't mean there hadn't been some behind-the-scenes string pulling. Alex would have to find out who else had been on the short list for Hunter's job. Also, who had left the office, and who else was new.

Alex knew he could clear his desk in one day. He had no matters going to trial, and the remainder were issues that would be remedied by a formal letter. He'd miss his old office space, of course - the furnishings, books, and decorative items would go into storage. Except, perhaps, for the engraved drinking horn he'd picked up at a Renaissance Faire - to remind any enemies within reach who they were dealing with.

The rest of the time would be spent chasing down former employees.


	12. Repercussions Part 2

(Saturday Afternoon - Westview Group Board Meeting)

Hitoshi was engaged in somewhat of a juggling act. He places a phone call to his mother in which he offers his apologies, but informs her she should not expect him at the meeting ... even though he is safely ensconced in another meeting room in the building.

"Very well," Karen says, her disapproval evident in her tone. "And have you decided about the Directorship?"

"I gave it serious consideration," Hitoshi replies. "Mother, I cannot accept. I have other concerns that take precedence."  
"Like working on cars and motorcycles? Hitoshi, the point is that you don't have to do that!"

"I'm not going to argue with you, Mother."

"You'll have to face it eventually, Hitoshi."

"When the time comes, then."

Karen took a moment to regain her composure before entering the board meeting. She wasn't technically a member of the board of directors, but her position as Chief of Casino Operations assured her presence at the meeting. The other board members were engaged in small talk and last-minute politicking, except for the somewhat enigmatic James Sokatsu, the representative of a shareholder who did all of his business through his agent. Sokatsu was seated at the table, a tablet computer arranged just so alongside two smartphones. A Bluetooth earbud was visible in his left ear, while a black wristband hinted at some other high-tech wearable.

"All right, all right," said Gregory Mason, glancing irritably at his watch. "It's more than twenty minutes past our scheduled start, and Jennings isn't here. We still have a quorum. We'll just have to convene without him."

There was a murmur of assent.

"What's first on the agenda? This 'Live Entertainment' notion?" asked Amelie Pelletier.

Sokatsu held up a hand. "Actually, I have an important matter that takes precedence, and which will also explain the absence of Director Jennings."

James takes a sealed envelope from his pocket. "This is John Jennings' resignation, back dated to the beginning of the month. You will find a copy in each of your folders."

"... relinquish my shares in the Westview Group ..."

"... in favor of a lucrative offer ... he sold his shares?"

"That's twelve percent of our stock!" Mason snapped. "All of you, call your brokers. We need to put those shares back under board control!"

James clears his throat. "There is no danger to the Westview Group. The shares have been acquired by my principal in their entirety."

"Wait a minute, that makes him the majority shareholder ..."

"It does."

"And I suppose you have one of your little envelopes, Sokatsu?"

"I do not. My principal would like to address the Board in person."

"Ah. So we finally get to meet our mystery shareholder! Is this where we find out you've been playing us all along, James?" Pelletier asked.

"I am entirely what I appear to be, Director Pelletier, nothing more," Sokatsu says - even if that wasn't entirely true. He picks up one of his smartphones and autodials a number. "Yes, Sir. The Board is waiting for your arrival."

"Excellent, I shall be there in a moment." Hitoshi replies.

He stands and looks over at Mika. He had called her earlier in the day telling her to meet him at the Casino in the boardroom he was in now. Once she had arrived, he had explained the situation to her so she was now fully informed.

"I do not think your mother will take this well." She says as they walk down the hallway towards the other boardroom.

Hitoshi pauses to look in one of the mirrors lining the hallways, and straighten his tie and smooth down his white suit jacket.

"Oh I know she won't, but thats part of the plan."

He stops outside the doors to the boardroom, but rather than allow Mika to open them for him, he does so himself, striding in with confidence.

"My apologies for being late, traffic was just murder."

"Ryder," Mason says, giving him a look of disapproval. "I'm afraid the question about a Director of Live Entertainment is on hold. We're in the middle of something a bit more important."

Hitoshi smiles. "Oh I know, you are discussing who bought up all the shares of John Jennings."

He calmly walks over to James Sokatsu and nods. James quietly gets up and holds the seat for Hitoshi who sits down and crosses his right leg over his left and folds his hands in front of him.

"So, lets get down to brass tacks shall we?"

"_Hitoshi Ryder_ is your principal, James?" Mason asks, somewhat agog.  
"He is. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Board of Directors, may I introduce you to my principal and the new majority shareholder in the Westview Group, Hitoshi Ryder."

Dead silence.

"Then I submit Hitoshi Ryder's name as the new CEO of the Westview Group," Amelie says, giving Mason an 'up yours' smile. "Is there a second?"

"Seconded," says Selene Chase. "Let's proceed to a vote. I say yes."

"Hmph," Mason frowns. "I vote no."

"Yes," Amelie Pelletier says.

"I see no reason why we shouldn't," says another board member. "Yes."

"New blood, new opportunities," rumbles Douglas Maxwell. "I vote yes."

"I don't like this," objects another member. "We promote Karen Ryder to Director of Casino Operations, and now her son comes out of left field as majority stockholder? I know Greg; I don't know Ryder. No."

The vote goes against Mason, five to three.

"The motion is passed," Amelie Pelletier nods. "Gregory, you're no longer CEO."

Mason glares at Amelie, then Hitoshi. "Fine."

Hitoshi laughs. "Well this is unexpected. All I was trying to do was get my mother off my ass on the whole get a better job issue she always throws in my face. I'd say this about does it."

He smiles. "James, I of course want you to stay on as my agent to assist."

He then turns toward his Mother. "Mother, I was going to actually accept your offer for the position, but being as I am now the CEO, I have a feeling I shall have to be a part of everything. I there for nominate to the board Mika Hanamura to be Director of Entertainment as my first act as CEO. Votes?"

"Second the motion," Amelie Pelletier says. "And I vote yes."

"Never hurts to suck up to the boss, eh, Amy?" Mason sneers.

"You don't want to go there, Gregory. You really don't," says Amelie.

Hitoshi waits patiently. James had kept him apprised of the political in-fighting among board members.

"I'd like to see Ms. Hanamura's resume," Selene Chase says. "A provisional yes for me, if you don't object, Mr. Ryder?"

"Mother... I'm sorry, Miss Ryder I mean, I believe you have Miss Hanamura's resume. Please fetch it for Miss Chase, Thank you." Hitoshi says, rather enjoying the moment.

"Miss Chase, While my mother gets you the required information, I shall go ahead and say that she hired Miss Hanamura to be my aid if I was to become the Director of Entertainment, so I do believe she will work out just fine, however, I shall be focusing my efforts in that area as well at least until she proves herself in your eyes. Now, beyond that, what is on the agenda today?"

He coughs. "Could we possibly get some tea in here? I hate these stuffy boardrooms, they always dry out my throat."

"I have Mika's resume right here, with copies for the Board," Karen says. "I will have tea sent up for you, Mr. Ryder. Otherwise, the wet bar is amply stocked."

After reading through Mika's curriculum vitae, Selene Chase gives her assent. "I see no reason not to approve her for the position."  
Mason doesn't even glance at the sheet. The two votes, however, do show clear allegiances; both women seem to have a cold attitude towards him, while the ready agreement from other members suggests that they are simply weary of Mason's style.

"The only remaining item is the discussion of a potential merger with a Japanese conglomerate," James informs you. "A prospectus is in your folder."

Hitoshi opens the folder and finds the appropriate document. Takinga minute to read it over carefully, he then looks up and folds his hands. After a moment he stands and walks to look out the window at the strip below.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I lived in Japan for eighteen years of my life. I spent most of my time wandering the streets and either finding trouble, or having it find me. Beacuse of that I have a bit of insight into the seedier organizations of Japan that my Mother is just finding out now that I knew. I would like us to be careful with this merger because of that. Many companies in Japan deal in some way with the Yakuza, either through vendors, back alley dealings, or as front companies. I would request that we send someone to investigate this company thoroughly before we agree to this merger. IF the company is clean, then I shall put my vote in along side the yes's without hesitation, but I would not want our company to be shamed by having dealings with the Yakuza in any form. At the very least it would eventually hurt our reputation when it came to light in the public eye, and with so many cameras on the streets connected to the news, and so many hackers able to get into databases these days, it will be a matter of when, not if."

He pauses for a second as he picks his next words.

"At the most, you all could eventually find yourselves no longer on this board as they send their people up the chain to claim seats one by one. I am not asking that you stop this merger, I am just asking that we proceed carefully at this point and do some research."

He turns around and leans on the table, his cut down left pinky finger clearly in view of all as his hands are splayed across the glass.

"So, what do you all say?"

"I think it's a good idea," Douglas Maxwell nods. "I'd volunteer, but I'm just a guy who made some good investments. Think I'd be out of my league. Gregory, why not you?"

"You're kidding me, right, Max?" Mason snorts.

"Not really," Maxwell tells him. "You've held the CEO position, and you have good business sense. I so motion. Second?"

"Seconded," says another board member. "Vote?"

"Not so fast," Amelie Pelletier says, perhaps reluctant to end Mason's discomfort at being unseated as CEO. "I'd suggest Ms. Hanamura - she has the credentials - but, she isn't familiar with the Board's history. As I can't self-nominate, I motion Selene Chase also be considered for the task."

"Seconded," says Douglas Maxwell. "Anyone else want to toss their name into the hat? Comments? Then votes, please. Selene or Gregory as the Board's agent to visit our prospective partner."

Hitoshi holds up a hand. "She has my vote."

The other board members voice their sentiments, the vote coming in at 5-2, with Selene and Mason abstaining.

"Very well," Mason says. "Selene goes. What is she looking for, exactly?"

"A signpost," Selene says. "I don't speak Japanese, Hiroshi."

Mason smirks. "Wonderful."

"There's no need to be your usual chauvinistic self, Gregory," Amelie Pelletier points out. "I suggested Ms. Hanamura be accompanied by Selene. Does that change anyone's vote?"

There were no objections.

"Excellent. Then Miss Hanamura will Accompany Miss Chase as her guide and translator. You two can leave tomorrow." Hitoshi knocks twice on the conference table. He shuffles the papers back into the folder.

He folds his hands again. "Now, before we adjourn the meeting, I have a few things to say. First off, This will be my first time running a company. I will do my best, but I expect support from the board. If I have a question about something, I'm NOT going to hesitate to ask. If you think I'm about to do something wrong, tell me. We can't evolve as a company without working together.

Second thing, As some of you may know, I am friends with The Furies, the Punk Rock Band that Played last night. I will always have my cellphone on me and you can contact me, but there are evenings that I probably will be out at a concert, either helping out, or in the crowd watching. I love their music, and I love them, they are my family, and I fully support them in everything they do."

He lets his gaze sweep around the room.

"That being said, you may have heard about the incident last night during the concert. I was there, I saw it all. None of it was the fault of either of the bands. Some stupid gang came in and set off fireworks and tried to start a fight. Yes, I WAS involved, I'm not going to lie. I did what I needed to in order to protect my friends, and your customers. I won't just be a CEO to this company. When I am around here, I will be down on the floor, walking around, helping out where I can, when I can. If stuff like that puts me in the media, I don't care. We all know the media will spin whatever story benefits them the most. Does anyone have a problem with any of this?"

"And what of the accident, the shooting out front?" asks Mason. "Just another coincidence?"

"Whoa, easy there, Greg," Maxwell chuckled. "You make it sound like we're under siege."

"Our guests need to know they can come here and have a good time, not worry about fights breaking out or shootings out front."

"An advertising campaign, then?" Amelie asked. "Or perhaps that should wait until we're decided on the merger."

Hitoshi rolls his eyes and pulls out an Electronic cigarette since they were inside. "Mister Mason, Ive been here an hour and I can see one problem... Your additude..." He takes a puff and closes his eyes. "Your an Asshole, and no one here at the table likes you. It shows in how quickly they vote me into the position of CEO. They are that willing to give someone like me a try."

He slides the E-cig back in his pocket. "We don't need an advertising campaign. I know the man the gang members shot at. "Mr. Alex North. HOW I know him is of no concern, but I talked to him after the incident. It's something to do with one of his cases he said, and was totally unexpected. My suggestion is to beef up security a bit around the entrance. Any High class targets of possibility should get extra security, and if we need to have the police beef up their patrols in the area, then we do so."

There's a brief, uncomfortable silence.

"Well. Thank you for your _opinion_, Mr. Ryder," Mason says. "As your predecessor, I have run the Westview Grand and helmed the Westview Group for three-and-a-half years, while you hid behind Sokatsu, there."

"I don't really care if I've been voted out. My shares are not for sale, at least not to you, Ryder, and I hold enough to call for a no-confidence vote."

He stands up, slapping closed his portfolio.

"Have fun. I'll see all of you at the next quarterly meeting."

Hitoshi snorts as Mason leaves. Afterwards he speaks again. "I will apologize to the rest of you for my actions. I got the distinct feeling that none of you liked him, and He rubbed me the wrong way from the start. Still My actions and words were a bit uncalled for, but I don't have disrespect, veiled or otherwise on this board as long as I am the CEO. It makes for a bad workplace."

"Gregory is used to getting his own way," Amelie Pelletier tells you. "It has served the Westview Group well enough in places."  
"He doesn't like James much, I'm afraid," Maxwell says. "Probably because of the whole silent-partner thing. That you're Karen's son, that's just adding insult to injury. Don't lose any sleep over it, Hitoshi. Good to have you on board."

Hitoshi nods. "I will try to do the best I can working with the rest of you." He pauses then speaks again. "I do have one small question, Can he do anything to my mother because of this? I'd rather she not lose her job because I say something inadvertent down the road."

Selene smiles reassuringly. "No, he can't. Karen, your position with the Westview Grand is secure. The rest of us look forward to working with Hitoshi."  
That wasn't entirely true, of course, as Mason had garnered two of the nine votes on the board each time. It would never be enough to push something through without the support of the others.

"Ms. Chase, if you will excuse me, I will see to our travel arrangements and accommodations," Mika says. "Hitoshi, do you wish me to communicate our findings to you directly, or work with Sokatsu-san?"

Hitoshi looks over at James, who nods. "Contact me please Miss Hanamura. James will be working on expanding my investment portfolio for the most part."

He pushes in his chair. "Before we leave, I'd still like to know your feelings on my activities outside of this company, and anything I might need to watch for so as not to bring the bad limelight down upon this board. I would also like to invite you all to the Furies next showing should you wish to see what they are all about because I intend to have them here again. I heard they and the Necromantics pulled in quite a bit of money last night in spite of those silly gang members pulling their hi jinks."

He looks to his Mother. "Also Miss Ryder, I am supposed to pickup the bands pay as I am going to meet Lya for lunch."

"Of course, Hitoshi," your mother says with a tone of respect that you've not heard before. "I have it right here."

"Absent any penchant for making controversial statements on Twitter," Amelie Pelletier says, "I rather like the idea of having a CEO who doesn't follow the traditional look-and-feel of corporate America. Karen Ryder has been with us for several years, and nothing untoward about her son's reputation has been brought to our attention."

Hitoshi nods. " to hear it. I intend to shake things up and attract a new younger crowd that wants to spend money around here. As for twitter, I never use it."

He stops and thinks for a moment. "Look, I know you call My Mother Karen, but calling her that, or Miss Ryder is going to really mess with my mind, so I'll be calling her mother just to make things simple and less weird for me. I hope you understand. If there is nothing else, We will meet again when more information about the merger possibility comes to light."

The motion to adjourn is seconded and carries without objection.

One of Mason's supporters passes you on the way out. "Don't take it the wrong way, Hitoshi. I support Greg Mason because he's done a great job at the helm of the Westview Group. I suspect you'll do just as well, because buying out Jennings? Damned smooth move. Damned smooth."

* * *

(Saturday Afternoon - Post-Meeting, Hitoshi and Mika)

"Ryder-san, may I have a word with you in private?" Mika asks as the meeting adjourns.

You nod and indicate the small 'quiet room' off to one side, where a small party may hold privileged conversations.

"I must voice certain concerns and confidences," Mika says quietly. "First, your finger. It is either a most unfortunate shop accident, or you have undergone_yubitsume_ for some transgression."

She holds up her hand to forestall an immediate response.

"The second matter is that my father is the _oyabun_ of the _Kuroi Inazuma Ryu_, a Yakuza clan. I cannot know for sure, but the proposed merger may involve my family, and I cannot be entirely impartial," she says. "As you are my employer, I will accept the assignment if you so choose. I will also submit my resignation, if you find it necessary."

Hitoshi walks over and pulls out a chair as the only small table in the room.

"Sit... Please."

He then pulls out a chair for himself and turns it backwards.

"I'm going to ask you two questions."

His pauses and rubs his temples with his fingers.

"First question. IF your father and his clan are involved, what will you do? Will you be loyal to them, or Will you be Loyal to me and this company?"

"I have no allegiance to my father," Mika says. "However, if my father's clan is involved, it may ... complicate matters. Pressures above and beyond that which is normally employed in such affairs may be brought to the table, to force your hand."

Hitoshi folds his hands in front of him, rubbing his pinky finger as he does so.

"Understood. Now for my second question...

Have you every been in love?" He holds up a hand.

"I mean the kind of love to where you know you are willing to go to the ends of the earth to save someone even if it means that you yourself will die?"

"I would like to think our love would have been such a thing," she says, looking at the floor. "He was a low-ranking member of the clan. We shared a dream of doing something more with our lives, of building a future where we weren't beholden to the tradition. We were to meet one night ... and he never showed."

"I do not want to believe my father had him killed, but I never saw him again. None of his friends would speak to me," she tells you. "And I could not ask my father about him without admitting I had been seeing a boy against his wishes."

Hitoshi nods.

"I too had someone I loved. I just didn't know how much when I left Japan months before turning eighteen. Six years later I received a call from her. Her father had married her off to a man and that man sold her to the Yakamura clan to be a sex slave. She had managed to get away..."

He stands and closes the blinds between the small room and the conference room so that no one cloud see into the room he and Mika were in.

"She called the only person she knew would lift a finger to help her. I bought a plan ticket to Japan without even thinking, and found her hiding out in a motel outside of Tokyo. I was one day away from getting her and I safely here when the Yakamura clan found us..."

He takes off his jacket, then his shirt, revealing the tattoos on his back and chest and the scars they cover.

"They tortured us both, and then before my eyes, shot her in the chest. She bled out in my arms. I would have been next if not for luck. I killed fifty of them before they took me down again. My father intervened and made some sort of deal with the Oyabun. I committed Yubitsume to atone for the lives I took, and then they kicked me out of Japan with words to never come back."

He buttons up his shirt again, straightens his tie, and puts his jacket back on.

"I am no friend to the Yakuza. One day... they will fall, and I will be there to watch."

"i wish no ill upon my father," Mika says. "But something in me died that day, and something else was born. If death should be his karma, so be it."

"Your father has not crossed me... The Yakamura clan however..." Hitoshi leaves the rest unsaid as he opens the blinds again.

"Mika, do your best to Aid miss Chase, and should you find evidence of any Yakuza clans involvement with the company we wish to merge with, inform the board immediately then get yourself and Miss Chase back here. I have taken on one Yakuza clan, I can do so again if I must."

He opens the door. "You and Miss Chase leave tomorrow I believe. Have a good trip."

He smiles slightly before leaving the room and heading down the hallway to the elevators.

* * *

Hitoshi steps out of the elevator and pulls out his cellphone, placing a call to Lya.

After about the fifth ring you hear the phone pick up and a loud clattering noise along with muffled cursing. "Whaddayawant, Hitoshi...was sleepin'..."

"I'll make it quick then. First off, I have your Pay for Last night's Concert. Second off, you know the spare bedroom at my house is yours, Third, I still don't know how you called it, but yea, you are talking to the new CEO of the Westview grand. Luckily, I talked to the board and they want an edgier bolder CEO. Apparently the old one was a bight of a stuck up asshole. Very old and traditional in his ways of running the company. They honestly don't care what I do in my off time so I'll still be spending time with you and the band. This brings me to number four... How'd you like to implement some designs on the Westview grand? I mean after the fundraiser tonight I mean. Speaking of that I need to call board after you, and see if they want to pitch in on this. The community angle will do wonders."

Hitoshi fires off his points as quickly as humanly possible so as not to keep Lya awake longer than needed.

"Awesome...look forward to getting paid when you show up in your toga. Not willing to pay the price of having to listen to your mother just to have a roof over my head, Hitoshi. "

There's the sound of a lighter and then a slow exhale.

"Told you so, by the way... and if they don't care what you do in your spare time that's code for 'We're waiting for you to fuck up so we can kick you out,' dude... don't believe that bullshit."

There's another pause as she takes a bigger drag off her cigarette and then the rattle of a headboard against the wall as she shifts to lean against it.

"Seriously? Do I look like an interior designer to you? If your company wants to donate to the charity fund then by all means... but _you're_ the businessman Hitoshi, not me... and that's by choice, not circumstance. I know you just want to help, Hitoshi... but I'm just fine living my life the way it is."

Hitoshi laughs. "Okay sleepy head, first off, clear out the cobwebs cause I don't live with mom, and I haven't for a while. I've had my own place for a while now, I even gave you a key, and the alarm code. Second, they may be able to swap me for another CEO, but they can't remove me from the board without buying me out at a price I agree to, and that's too much right now."

He grins, and pushes the outer door open, stepping out into the warm sun.

"As for changing the image, I was thinking more Furies concerts... on your schedule I mean. You were a hit, and people wanted more."

He checks over his mustang for anything wrong.

"Could've fooled me with the way she calls you all the time dude," Lya chuckles before hitting her cigarette. "If the Furies became a regular at the casino there would certainly be an image change, Hitoshi... everyone would start thinking we were some casino lounge act. Besides... after the mess the Lobos caused, I think _you're_ the only one who wants us back in the casino."

There's the muffled sound of another person groaning and the bed shifting. "Need...more...sleep..." a woman mutters.

Lya sighs and leans back against her headboard. "I meant what I said at the restaurant. You're always trying to help people, Hitoshi, and that's great... but I only want your friendship, not your money. If you really want to help people, then donate some of your fat wallet to the relocation fund... because _they're _the ones who really need it."

"Lyyyyaaaaa..." the other voice moans.

"Look, I've got to go... hopefully we'll see you tonight. I know you think nobody can touch you, Hitoshi... but I'm begging you... watch your back."

\- _click_ -

Hitoshi chuckles and shakes his head then dials up the other board members one by one except for Selene, and Morgan, starting with Amilee.

"Amelie, It's Hitoshi Ryder, I have a proposition for you and the rest of the board members that could either make you all look good, or possibly make the company look good in the eyes of the public, but there is very little time to do it in."

"What did you have in mind, Hitoshi?" Amelie asks. "I draw the line at entering celebrity bake-offs and reality TV shows."

"No-no, nothing nearly that stressful. There's an old bar downtown called The Dive. Surrounding it and above it are Apartments. Lots of people patronize it and live around and above it, including Lya. Well some slime sucker did an illegal Eviction and right now many people are out on the street due to it. They didn't even get a thirty day notice. Just came home last night and boom, out on the street. It's being fought by Alex North, but in the meantime Lya is having a fundraiser tonight for the bar and those kicked out. Now My kicking money towards the fund raiser won't raise any eyebrows, after all I am close with the band, but I think it would look good in your image in the public eye, and it might make the Casino look good as a side effect if you were to show up and donate. Mind you, you don't have to do this, it's just a wild idea I had." Hitoshi lays down his speech, and waits for a reply.

He does this with each other member minus Morgan because he knows Morgan will say no. At the last minute he even calls Selene and lays down the speech.

"I take steps to keep my image _out_ of the public eye, Hitoshi," Amelie smiles. "I have no objections to making a donation - the Westview Grand donates to local charities and sponsors various events throughout the year, as you well know. However, I prefer not to make public appearances.

"That being said, what efforts are you thinking of underwriting? Paying tenants' first-and-last for a new place to rent? Offering rooms so they have temporary lodging?

"You have my approval as long as the accounting is done properly. I'm sure James can advise you in that regard."

When you call Selene, it sounds like she's blow-drying her hair.

"What? Hitoshi? Hold on, please," she says.

The whirring of the hair-dryer stops and you hear something akin to drawers opening and closing, and perhaps a cabinet. Running water, briefly.

"I'm sorry, you caught me at an inopportune moment," she says. "What do you need?"

She listens to your sales pitch.

"Interesting. A CEO who believes in social justice," Selene said, with a tone of mild amusement. "Is 'tilting at windmills' listed on your resume, Hitoshi? Are you a white knight here to redeem Vegas? Others have tried, you know."

Hitoshi smiles. "No, no white knight here, though I do look good in a white suit. I'll leave the White knighting to Alex North. He seems good at it. No, I've been where these people are, back when I grew up in Japan, my mother and I weren't exactly middle class or rich, and when we came here, I ran into Lya."

He pauses, remembering that night and what would have happened had he not been there.

"Both of us know what it's like to run the streets, her more so than me, but even I know it's not always fun. I'm not trying to redeem Vegas, but I will help people when I can when the situation calls for, and if it happens to improve my image, and or the image of the company I now run, then I say that's a plus on both accounts. So, you in?"

_No, I'm not trying to Redeem Vegas, I'm just trying to keep it safe for those I love._ He thinks to himself.

"If you want to make some form of charitable contribution to these people, I have no objections," Selene said. "If this is something you want to do more of, you should consider writing up a formal proposal for the board, telling us what kinds of charities and causes you wish to support, and at what levels."

"Admittedly the eviction was sudden, and therefor so was the concert fundraiser. However I like the way you are thinking. I'll get on that this week and have them ready sometime after you are back. Thanks for your time Selene, I'll let ya go." Hitoshi smiles.


	13. Evie's Off-Duty

(Saturday Night - Movie Night with Saul and Evie)

Seven o'clock rolls around at the Cartwright residence and it isn't long before Evie's door buzzer goes off. She answers and Saul's cheerful voice crackles through the intercom. "Your chariot awaits, madam!"

"Be down in a second!"

Evie makes a few finals checks of the apartment, making sure windows are closed and locked and that her stove is turned off before she leaves, bounding down the stairs and out the front door to where Saul waits. Today, he's dressed in a pair of shorts and a Python Style T-shirt, the logo on the front a mashup of _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ and Psy's _Gangam Style._

"Hey, nerd!" grinning, he falls in beside Evie as the two of them walk to his truck.

"Dork," Evie answers with a brilliant smile. She swerves slightly as she walks, bumping into his shoulder. "How's the work week been?"

Saul bumps her right back, the two playfully jostling each other, "Same old, same old. Well, except for this one lady." Upon reaching the truck, Saul steps in front of Evie and opens the door for her. Though he hadn't lived in North Carolina in years, his Southern belle granny had pretty much beaten good manners into him and, even now, he makes such gestures purely out of habit.

"Oh?" Evie slides into the seat. "What happened?"

Saul takes his place in the driver's seat and cranks the engine. It rumbles to life and he starts to pull out of the parking lot, "Before I get into that, where do you want to go to dinner? I need to know what direction to point this monstrosity."

"Somewhere close to the Grand View," Evie says. "How about Giovanni's? You okay with Italian?"

"Perfect!" Saul makes a left turn out of the apartment complex and falls into a relaxed driving mode, used to being behind the wheel for most of any given day. "So, let me tell you about this," Saul is already chuckling softly before he's even begun the story, "I'm patrolling the outskirts of town and I see this lady run a stop sign. Of course, I pull her over. Well, as I'm getting my stuff together before getting out of the cruiser, I see her moving around and making a commotion in her car."

"Now, I'm kind of worried, so I call in just in case something goes amiss," Saul continues, starting to laugh, now. "When I get up to her window, what do I see? She has switched places with her dog! The lady is in the passenger seat and there is now a Pomeranian sitting at the wheel!"

"What?!" Evie laughs aloud, disbelief in her voice.

"Hand to god, Evie! I am not making this up! She actually thought I was going to buy the notion that the dog was driving," Saul chortles. "I was completely flabbergasted. I had no idea how to handle it, at first. I mean, how do you react to that? So, I ended up giving her a breathalyzer, which she passed. She didn't appear to be on drugs. She just seemed...a mite touched, is how granny would put it."

"Well, what did you do?"

"I wrote her up for failure to stop, made sure she put the dog back in the passenger seat and sent her on her way," Saul shakes his head. "I did follow her a few miles to make sure that she was alright. She seemed to drive fine, after that. Maybe she missed seeing the stop sign...it happens. But, the dog? Really?"

Saul shakes his head, still laughing at the memory of the moment, "How about you? How are your cases?"

"Well, I think I have the Davison case sorted. There are a couple more things I want to check out that would confirm what I suspect, but...yeah. I think I'm just about done with that one. The Cardinelli case, though?" Evie shakes her head and makes a frustrated sound.

"Yeah, rumor is going around HQ that that's the one that will finally stump you," Saul grins.

"Pffft! I think they may be right," Evie gives a short bark of laughter. "It's obvious that Cardinelli was murdered. There are bullet holes in his blues. He turns up in a freakin' sarcophagus under a building. Who does that? I mean, sure...I've heard tales of people dumping bodies in construction sites to hide them, but not after putting them...not in a box...not in a coffin...but in a huge, honkin' metal sarcophagus. I'm baffled!"

"Aw, that's all right, sweetie. You'll get it! Look, don't worry about it, tonight, okay? We'll eat, we'll dance, we'll tell bad jokes, we'll see a movie," he glances over at Evie and sees her raise an eyebrow. "Okay, no dancing. But we'll do the rest of it."

"Can we stop by the book store, at some point? I want to see if I can find the next in the Kin series," Evie asks.

"Sure!"

"Thanks," Evie replies. "How's the family?"

"Well, they're doing okay, mostly. But, I'm really worried about my nephew, Charles," Saul's mood darkens, the smile slipping from his face. He sighs and turns to Evie as they stop at a redlight. "He's getting mixed up in some bad stuff. He's not a bad kid! I mean, how bad can you be at 14, ya know? But, he's making some damn stupid choices and it's getting him into all kinds of trouble. Deb's worried that he's going to land himself in jail if he keeps on like he is."

"What's he doing?" Evie asks, her voice full of concern.

"Hanging out with a bad crowd, mostly. Delinquent types. Charles has been caught shoplifting a couple of times, he's come home obviously drunk. So far, he's gotten off with being released to his parents and paying restitution, but if he keeps it up.." his voice trails off.

"Juvie," Evie nods.

"Yeah," the light turns green and Saul returns to driving. "Deb's beside herself. I feel terrible for her because she thinks that she must've done something wrong raising him, that somehow it's her fault that he's making these mistakes. But, it's not. Charles is doing this all by himself. But, we don't know how to reach him. He won't listen to me. Sure, I'm his uncle but I'm also a cop. That makes me 'the man,' to him. He's not listening to his parents, his teachers, his counselors at school..."

Quietly, Evie sighs in sympathy. She reaches over and pats Saul's arm. After a moment, she says, "I'm guessing that he's not going to listen to anyone that he perceives as an authority figure. So...maybe he would listen to Ricky?"

"Ricky? You really think he could help?"

"Why not? I mean, he's just about as far from being an authority figure as a person can get. He's a bartender in Vegas. Plus, you remember him as a teenager. He was a hellion! He was in all kinds of mischief. Now, granted, he didn't do anything like shoplifting, buuuut...he did walk a fine line. I can always ask if he would be willing," Evie offers, thinking that perhaps the elder of her two brothers might offer a little bit of help.

"Well," Saul seems to ponder for a moment. "You know, it's worth a shot. We'd need to figure out a way to get them together, though, without it screaming 'intervention!' I swear, the kid's like a bloodhound when it comes to that. He can spot an adult set-up coming a mile away."

"We can worry about that after I talk to Ricky. If he agrees, we can see if we can set something up."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Evie," once again, Saul's smile returns.

"Actually, " Saul continues, "Deb is giving serious thought to moving back out to North Carolina. We still have a lot of family out there and she thinks that getting away from Vegas may be the best thing for Charles."

He grimaces and shakes his head, "But, I don't know how her ex is going to feel about that. Doug never was the most reasonable of men." There is pure contempt in his voice as he says _Doug._

Evie nods, remembering their divorce. It had been an ugly affair. She recalls the days when Saul would storm over to her apartment, looking for an ear and a shoulder as he dealt with anger over how Deb was being treated. It's one of the very few times that she's ever seen Saul truly angry, "Hopefully, he'll keep his nose out of it. If he knows what is going on with Charles then, hopefully, he'll see reason."

Saul glances at her, giving her the "really?" look. However, he sighs and says, "Well, I guess there is always hope that he will. But, I'm afraid that he'll see it as her trying to take Charles even further away from him. It's not like Asheville would be a quick, weekend jaunt to see his son."

"But, it's all moot, at the moment," her friend waves the idea off, for now. "Deb still has to find a job and a place to live, out there. Who knows how long that will take?"

They pull into Giovanni's parking lot, at this point. It's a small restaurant, tucked away behind some larger establishments in a strip mall type area. From the outside, it looks a little skeezy. However, it is also home to some of the most authentic, Italian food that a person can get.

As they exit the truck, Evie moves to stand in front of Saul, "Hold on a second." She immediately begins rummaging in the oversized burlap sack that she likes to call a purse.

Saul stands, watching curiously. Since they are standing under a street lamp, he can clearly see into the depths of the Magical Purse of Holding and he's not shy about his nosiness.

Evie grins and turns her back on him, shielding the contents from his view. After a couple more seconds, she turns back around, holding something behind her back.

"I found this a couple of days ago and thought of you. I actually forgot that I still had it in my purse! So, it was going to be a little birthday present or something but..." she shrugs and smiles, bringing her hands to her front.

She is holding an annotated copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide Trilogy._ Originally, she was going to save it. However, Saul seems so worried about his sister and nephew that she can't keep it from him. It's only a small thing, but it should cheer him up.

"What's this?" Saul's eyes light up and his usual, cheery smile replaces the worried expression from earlier. "It's annotated? Awesome!" He takes the book and immediately flips it open to a random page, glancing through all the tidbits and extra facts that are squeezed into the margins and footnotes.

"Thank you!" Saul catches Evie in a hug, lifting her off of the ground slightly. (It's actually kind of tough to do since he's only an inch or so taller than her.) He plants a soft kiss on her cheek. "I love it!"

Evie happily returns the hug, tickled that he likes it...though, she knew he would. He's read all of Douglas Adams books at least three time and the_ Hitchhikers_ series is one of his favorites, "Come on. Let's go on inside and have a nice meal."

The two step apart but Saul immediately crooks his elbow and offers his arm to Evie. Feeling completely content, Evie slips her arm through his and the two of them enter Giovanni's.

The aging waitress at the front smiles and greets the two warmly, having seen them on many an occasion. Her silver hair is done up in a loose bun and there are flour stains upon her apron. It's pretty clear that she's pulling double duty, tonight, cooking and waiting tables.

"Here, here...we have a nice seat over by the aquarium. You sit here, yes? They are doing construction over on the other side of the restaurant. Makes it so ugly to look out those windows!" she bustles about and gets the two situated in a secluded corner. "Now, I get you drinks, eh? Nice red wine? Very, very good with the veal tonight!"

"Veal?" asks Saul.

"Yes! Tonight's special is veal osso buco. It is delizioso!" she waves a hand and makes a face. "These animal rights people, always making fuss over this or that. Don't like the veal, they say. Bah! Is what cow is for, to eat!"

Both Evie and Saul know that, in most cases, it isn't the fact that it is a baby animal that makes people protest veal. However, neither of them are going to argue with this feisty, Italian lady.

Before either of them can actually order anything, the waitress nods to herself and bustles off towards the kitchen, opening the door and calling out to somebody in the back in Italian. After a few moments, she comes back with two glasses of red wine and some water.

After she leaves to attend to some other patrons, Saul chuckles and says, "Well, it looks like we're having red wine and veal!"

Evie laughs and shrugs, not at all bothered by their waitresses' personality. She's fairly certain that at any other establishment, she'd be fired. But, they both learned long ago that you don't come to Giovanni's unless you are willing to put up with a few quirks.

The two of them sit and chat amiably about this and that. Their conversation rambles over TV shows, family, current events...maybe even a little bit of a good-natured argument over why Booster Gold is/isn't an awesome hero ensues...basically, anything but work. It's not that the two of them don't enjoy their work. They do! It's just that nights like this are special. It's a bit of time when both of them can forget about law enforcement. They are not officers. They're simply two people enjoying each other's company.

Finally, the veal arrives and, just as the waitress had said, it is delicious. The waitress drops by every so often to fuss over them, "You need more wine? And some bread, of course. Ah...but you save room for dessert? You must have dessert! I bring you zeppole and coffee."

Again, the two friends shake their heads and chuckle as they are not given the chance to turn down the sweets.

"I don't know that I'm going to have room for snacks at the movie, after this!" Saul laughs quietly.

"I don't know that I'm going to be able to stay awake," Evie yawns, her belly so very full of food and wine.

"No, no!" Saul reaches across the table and pokes her arm. "No sleeping! There are turtles to watch."

When it comes time to pay, Evie pulls out cash roughly equivalent to the cost of her meal and hands it to Saul, who in turn hands over his credit card to the waitress. (Neither of them are nitpickers about the change.) Long ago, Saul had insisted on paying for meals because that is what gentlemen do. However, Evie managed to beat that notion right out of his head. Unless it's a birthday or other celebration, the two always go Dutch.

As the meal is paid and they start to move towards the door, their waitress comes up to them, smiling happily, "You enjoy the meal? Yes?"

"Of course! It was delicious, as always," Evie smiles.

"Ah, good, good! I always like to see you two. Such a nice couple," she reaches up and cups one of Saul's cheeks with one hand and cups Evie's cheek with the other, all the while smiling happily like a favorite aunt. She pats their cheeks and coos something in Italian.

The kitchen door opens and a young man in his mid-twenties peers out. He gives an exasperated sigh and calls out, "Mama? You leave them alone!"

"What?" she calls back, before rattling off something in Italian that sounds a little defensive.

The young man replies in Italian and the two of them argue briefly. However, it only lasts a few second and they both soon switch back to English and call out, "Good night! Come back soon!"

Saul and Evie exit Giovanni's, their tummies full of delicious food. As the two make their way back to the truck, Saul pauses for a second, his footsteps slowing.

"What is it?" Evie notices as he falls a step behind and turns to face him, curious.

"Nothing!" Saul smiles and does a little skip step, catching up to Evie.

The detective shrugs and lets it go. If it's something that is truly bothering Saul, she's confident that he will speak up. At this point in their relationship, he's not shy about expressing his thoughts and feelings.

They pile into the truck and start making their way to the theater. During a lull in conversation, Evie's thoughts turn back to the last few days and all that has happened. She glances at Saul out of the corner of her eye. Inwardly, she chastises herself for going out with him, tonight.

_Alex has been the primary target, up until now. But, since Mr. Lyman is aware of us all, will that stay true or will we all be targets? Have I put Saul in danger just by being with him, tonight?_ she feels knot of fear form in the pit of her stomach. _Gawds, I'm selfish! I should've called tonight off, but I wanted to hang out..._

Seeming to sense the change in his friend, Saul reaches over and nudges her shoulder, "Hey, what's up?"

Evie puts on a smile and answers, "Nothing!"

_Just that I love you and if anything that I did caused you harm, I would never forgive myself._

"So, you know, I was thinking," Evie continues. "I've always wanted to see Alaska. I've lived my entire life here in the desert and I'd love to see the glaciers and forests up there. I'm thinking about saving up money and vacation time to take a trip next year, maybe. It wouldn't be anytime soon, or anything." She pauses, then, "Would you like to come with me?"

"A trip? With you?" if it hadn't been so dark in the truck, Evie would've seen a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Yeah! It would be fun! We could even make a tour of it. Maybe we could hit the rainforest in Washington, then head on up to Alaska and see the glaciers, then maybe head into Canada to see the wild Canucks," Evie grins, getting caught up in this notion. "You have to come along! You have to be there in case I fall down any more cliffs!"

"Ooooh, so that's why you want me there,' Saul laughs. "I see where I fall in this relationship. I'm just your emergency plan. It's not my rapier wit and shining personality, at all."

"Of course not! You have icky boy cooties," Evie wrinkles her nose in mock disgust, though she's having a hard time not giggling.

"Circle circle dot dot now I got my cootie shot!" both of them laugh in unison.

"Seriously, though," Evie says, "if I do take that trip, I would love for you to come with me."

"I think I would like that," Saul smiles amiably, nodding as he thinks it over. "You're right, though. It would take a while for us to save up the cash for travel, room and board. And, I don't know how much vacation time I have. After flying back home to visit, a few months ago, I'm pretty slim in the time off area."

"Like I said, this is something that I am thinking about way down the road. So, no worries. We can squirrel away for it slowly," she says. _Now, our team just has to save the world and I have to stay alive if I want to go to Alaska. Goals, Evie...you haz them!_

Finally, they pull into the Grand View, a large movie theater located on the main strip. It takes Saul a few minutes of driving around to find a parking space, but they eventually find one tucked back behind some building a short distance away. It is, after all, a Saturday night and Vegas is in full swing.

It doesn't take them long to walk over. They bypass the lines out front and go inside to buy their tickets from the kiosks, there.

"It always amazes me that more people don't use these," says Evie after they only have to wait for two people to finish ahead of them. "It's so much faster than getting tickets at the front."

"I think a lot of folks don't know these exist," answers Saul. As he's punching in their order, he asks, "Want snacks?"

"Oh, hell no! If I eat anything else, I'm going to wind up like that girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that blew up."

"It's just a wafer thin mint!"

Evie answers by puffing her cheeks out and then making soft a "BWEOOH!" sound, indicating an explosion with her hands.

The two of them make their way back to the theater and settle in towards the center seating area. It's the last week that TMNT is running and just about everyone who was going to see it already has. The theater is empty except for them, a handful of college age friends and a couple way in the very back who are more interested in each other than the movie.

They've made it there early enough that the pre-preview commercials are running, showing advertisements for TV shows and soft drinks. As they settle in, Evie leans in against Saul's shoulder so that she can speak quietly, "Hey, Saul...could you do me a favor? Could you keep an eye on my family?"

He looks at her askance, his voice suddenly quite serious. Softly, he asks, "Why? What's going on?"

"Well, the Cardinelli case...that involved the murder of a cop. Now, if it was a case of an individual who had a beef with Cardinelli, then all is well. Heck, whoever did it is probably either already dead or elderly," she says. "But, if it was an organization that arranged for it..."

Saul nods, quickly catching on to where she is going with this, "They could still be around and still want to protect their assets. You might kick a hornet's nest in this investigation and, if you wait until you _know_..."

"...then it's already too late," Evie finishes. "Look, I would really appreciate it. I'm still trying to decide if I want to say anything to them over dinner on Sunday. I don't want to needlessly freak them out. They already worry about me too much, what with my line of work."

"Hey, no worries. I've got your back," he places a comforting hand over Evie's where it rests on the chair's arm. "I'll try to work swinging by the house and their work into my patrols, no matter what you decide."

"Thank you," she squeezes his hand, genuinely grateful. However, she has a few distinct pangs of guilt. As the previews start to roll, all she can think about is how she had just worried that she accidentally put Saul in danger and now here she was _asking_ him to protect her family.

_Saul is a trained police officer,_ Evie thinks to herself. _If Lyman sends regular thugs to hurt my family (which I imagine he will. I can't imagine him sparing the big guns for them when it isn't necessary), Saul is more than capable of handling that. He's far more capable than the rest of my family._

"The rest of my family." It never even registered to Evie that she thought that...

For a brief instant, Evie feels true anger at the fact that Lyman could come after those she loves. Normally, she operates on a very even keel but, right now...in the dark of the theater...where no one can see...she seethes quietly.

_I will rip his fucking head off if he hurts them._

However, she is brought out of her momentary ire by Saul's elbow in her ribs and the sound of his voice in her ear as he leans over to whisper, "Oh, this one looks good! I think we need to see it, too."

Sunday evening, Evie rolls up to her parent's house on the outskirts of Vegas. The small, ranch-style house sits amid a lovely, arid-garden, stones and cacti arranged in a pleasing pattern. Wind chimes hang from the front porch, tinkling pleasantly in the evening breeze. Some rocking chairs and potted plants are carefully arranged on the porch, as well. All seems neat and tidy. But, it's not until you come around the curve in the driveway and pass a slight hill that you can see her father's collection of cars starting to spill out from the back yard.

Evie smiles at the familiar sight. Most Sundays, all of her family tries to get together for dinner. Schedules don't always allow for it, but the effort is made. This is one of those nights when the whole clan can make it.

She walks up to the front door and, not bothering to knock, lets herself in. The place is already filled with the scent of warm cornbread and steak.

"Hey!" Ian looks up from where he sits on the couch in the living room, a book in his hand. Sandy brown hair frames his friendly, square face. He sets the book, _Interpretations of Culture_, aside. He catches Evie in a hug and squeezes.

Gesturing to the book, Evie asks, "How's school going?"

"Not too bad. I have a thesis on the caste system in India and how it relates to gender identity that I am working on," he sits back down as he continues. "I actually have a flight scheduled for next week to go visit Dr. Akhil Basak in Yikram University to discuss things."

Evie raises an eyebrow, "You're traveling for your thesis?"

"Well, sure!" Ian moves his book out of the way so that Evie can sit down beside him on the couch. "Actually going to these places and immersing yourself in the culture is the best way to learn. Plus, I want to visit India. Two birds, one stone...all that jazz."

"India wouldn't be my first choice of places to visit, I'm afraid," she grins and leans back into the cushions. "Why India?"

As Ian opens his mouth, ready to barrage his sister with enthusiastic facts about India and its culture, the door to the kitchen opens and Ricky walks in, a drink in his hand.

"Hey, sis!" Ricky holds out the glass he is holding towards her. "Try this."

"Oh, thank god," Ian mumbles under his breath. He sinks back into the cushions quietly, quite ready to sacrifice his sister in order to avoid taste-testing another of his brother's concoctions.

Where Ian exudes "teddy-bear," Ricky exudes "bad boy." He sports the same, square jaw that seems to run in the family but his hair is a darker shade of brown. Today, he sports a 5 o'clock shadow, an old, blue T-shirt and a pair of jeans. The arm holding the glass is wrapped in a half-sleeve tattoo of a vines with silver fish darting through them.

Evie takes the glass and looks at the contents dubiously.

"Go on!" Ricky says. "I haven't poisoned you, yet. It's fine."

"Yeah, see...it's that 'yet' that has me worried," she sniffs the drink and is nearly knocked over by the alcohol fumes. She pulls another face but, unable to deny Ricky this small thing, she takes a sip.

There is no describing the taste that explodes across her tongue and the back of her throat. Though, 'It tastes like burning' does come to mind. She sputters and coughs after she swallows, and exclaims, "Bloody fuck!"

Ricky bursts out laughing just as they hear their mother call out from the kitchen, "Evelyn Marie Cartwright! Language!"

"Sorry, Mom!" Evie calls out around coughs. She hands the glass to Ricky, who is still laughing at her reaction. "What you have, right there, would be an excellent degreaser."

"Oh, come on, it's better than that!" re replies, taking another sip himself. He rolls the drink around in his mouth, savoring the bite of the alcohol. He swallows, sighs and says, "I think I'll add a dash of tomato juice and call it the 'Bloody Fuck.'"

Evie snorts and leans back beside Ian, once more. After a moment, she says, "I have a favor to ask, Ricky."

"Oh?" Ricky flops down in the La-Z-boy across from his siblings.

"Yeah. Saul's nephew is getting into some serious trouble and looks to be headed to juvie unless he straightens up. Kid isn't listening to his mom. He isn't going to listen to me or Saul because we pretty much scream "authority," but...you..." Evie pauses and looks at Ricky hopefully.

"Seriously?" Ian turns to look at Evie, giving her an incredulous look. "No offense," he adds, looking to Ricky.

"Yeah, no. It's okay. None taken. I'm right there with you," Ricky looks a touch stunned and amused. St'mused. "What the heck do you want me to tell this kid?"

"Well, I was hoping that maybe you could recount some of your time when you were a teen...the illegal drag racing, the run-ins with the gangs...something that might make him relate to you. Then, you could tell him the dangers and maybe talk about how you got out of it," Evie shrugs and shakes her head. "I don't know. Saul is worried about him and I'm at a loss as to how I can help."

Ricky snorts and take another sip of his concoction, "I got out of it because I was pretty sure that Mom would reach up my ass and yank me inside out, if I didn't. Not sure how that's going to help."

All the while, Ian has been sitting quietly, thinking. At this point, he speaks up, "Do you know what Saul's nephew likes? I mean, does he have any hobbies?"

"I have no idea," Evie answers.

"Well, another thought might be to get him to focus on something that he enjoys outside of his other activities. Engage his mind," Ian offers.

Ricky laughs at that, "If he's a delinquent, I don't think he's going to be all into the fine arts, Ian."

Ian irritably waves off his brother's laughter, "No, no. I'm sure he's not going to be spouting Shakespeare. But, he has to have something that he enjoys. Music? Mechanics? Art? Even if it's rap music and graffiti, that's something that can be redirected into a positive direction."

"Egghead might have a point," Ricky concedes after a moment of consideration.


	14. Meanwhile in Japan

(No Date - Japan Fact-Finding Visit)

"Good morning, Ms. Chase; Ms. Hanamura," said a gentleman whose age was only hinted at by a touch of gray at his temples, and a fan of crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. "I am Masaru Matsudaira, and I will be showing you our properties, and why we would welcome a merger with the Westview Group."

He presented his business card to Selene Chase with a bow.

"Domo, Matsudaira-san," Selene said, offering her card in return. Mika had coached her in some basic formalities.

"We have nothing scheduled, so you may refresh yourselves after a long flight," Masaru said. "Your rooms, of course, are at one of our premier resorts, and you may call upon me at any time, day or night, should you require something."

Masaru gave a discreet signal to their driver, who began placing their bags in the trunk, then opened the door of the limousine for them.

"Is this your first time visiting Japan, Ms. Chase?"

"Second, actually. But my first visit was many years ago," Selene smiled.  
"Ms. Hanamura?"

"I grew up in Kyoto," Mika said. "I will be translating for Ms. Chase."

"Excellent. I am fluent in English, but some of our board of directors are not," Masaru said.

"I'm afraid our guide will only show us those things his superiors wish us to see," Selene confided to Mika.

"That is true with any merger," Mika said. "But, perhaps, especially in Japan. It is like classical theater, _Noh;_ the players' true faces are hidden behind masks, and there are underlying themes that may not be readily apparent. If you see something that appears curious, or out of place, make note of it and mention it to me later. I will do my best to discern any significance beyond the obvious."  
Mika addressed herself to an assistant's role, placing Selene's garment bag in the closet, and laying the board member's suitcase on the low table by the dresser.

The hotel was the _Sugureta Meisei_, or 'Excellent Prestige' in an awkward English translation. The decor was contemporary, and care had been taken to make the rooms 'internet friendly' - with charging ports, complementary high-speed Wi-Fi, and a cloud-friendly business center.

"I will be in the adjacent room, Ms. Chase," Mika said. "As Matsudaira-san pointed out, if you need something, do not hesitate to call upon me. I have sent you an e-mail that contains links to two translation apps for your smartphone. The first will translate spoken language, the second translates any printed kanji that you capture with the camera."

"Thank you, Mika. As curious as I am, I'm also tired. I think I'll get some rest, and we can meet for dinner later."

"_Sumimasen_, Kimura-san," Masaru Matsudaira told his superior. "There is a ... complication."

_"Neh?"  
_  
"Selene Chase is being accompanied by a young woman named Mika Hanamura," Masaru explained. "She is using her mother's maiden name, as one might expect, but her father is Isao Muramasa of the Kuroi Inazuma."

"Ai!"

"Your instructions?"

"Proceed as planned."

"Should we ... leak the information to Muramasa?" Matsudaira asked.

"_Iie_. We are _miezaru te,_ the Invisible Hand."

_"Hai."_

Selene Chase turned off the lights in her room, which allowed her to see when Mika Hanamura did the same. _Click._ There. She remained still, almost eerily so, for another twenty minutes before leaving the room.

Now she moved with a quiet, seductive grace. She had pled ignorance of Japanese, when she was fluent in the language. Nor was she tired after the nearly 11-hour flight. She passed through the lobby and onto the street, though her passage did not go unnoticed.  
She walked several blocks away, finally finding an internet cafe where she rented a terminal with a debit card under a different name, and wrote a short e-mail addressed to someone named Janus.

_Arrived in Tokyo. Will visit various properties over the next couple of days. I see no reason to give an unfavorable report._

She returned to her room and availed herself of an hour or two of rest.

The group reconvened at the premier restaurant atop the main tower of the hotel, the maitre'd showing them to a window seat that offered a panoramic view of Tokyo at night, including the sprawling Shinjuku district.

"I would recommend the Tasting Menu," Masaru said. "It will allow our Executive Chef to demonstrate his skills, and the standards we strive to attain at our properties."

Selene nodded her approval. Mika studied the menu and prices before accepting the recommendation as well. It was clear their party was being afforded some extra attention, but the quality of service was outstanding.

"And to drink?" Masaru asked.

"Something light, please," Selene said.

"Water, for me, _dozo,_ Masaru-san," Mika replied.

But all was not the pleasant facade being presented to Selene Chase and Mika Hanamura.

Quietly, a hotel employee slipped into Selene's room and went through her things. A cursory examination of her business papers. The SD card in her tablet was cloned, as were the contents of her laptop. A listening device was slipped into a lamp.

The employee was well-trained in such intrusions, completing his examination quickly, and performing the simple courtesy of turning down the bed and leaving a complimentary chocolate for the guest.

Mika's room was next. Everything received the same treatment, but he had been alerted to the woman being the daughter of the formidable Isao Muramasa of the _Kuroi Inazuma Ryu,_ and a misstep here could have serious repercussions ...

The Tasting Menu was exquisite, a meal comprised of small plates that showcased the chef's talent over the course of a seven-course meal. Samples of various wines were offered with each plate, though Mika abstained, and several _amuse-bouche_ were offered as well.

"The cuisine is certainly on a par with offerings from the Westview Group," Selene assured Matsudaira. Masaru bowed. It would still be an early evening, with Selene and Mika retiring after the meal.

Selene took note of the complementary turn-down and foil-wrapped chocolate truffle set on the bed, but that was not what was troubling her. It was the absence of an obvious scent - no cologne, no soap, no shampoo, no deodorant. And if she had not been possessed of particularly keen senses, it might have worked. Selene concentrated for a moment, picking out her visitor's scent despite the effort to minimize it. And she could tell they had been through her things. Corporate espionage, most likely. Selene didn't particularly care - let the mortals fuss over the trivialities that defined their world.

In the next room over, Mika had reached a similar conclusion, not from any gift of preternatural senses, but from old fashioned telltales. A strand of hair here, a slip of paper there. Someone had gone through her things. But she didn't know if it was corporate espionage or her father's people ...

The tour of Pacific Rim's holdings began in earnest the following morning, with a much closer look at the hotel and its behind-the-scenes operations, including a corporate-style morning exercise and cheerleading session. None of the workers seemed to be dragging themselves into the room or concealing boredom and apathy behind polite smiles.

The hotel's operation was spotless. Reservations were handled by actual people, rather than a sterile computer interface. There were no supervisors stalking the employees to enforce artificial notions of efficiency through skewed metrics. And they were shown _everything_, from the maintenance and safety staff to housekeeping - none of whom appeared to be the 'stealth' visitor from the previous evening. Nor were there any of the stereotypical indicators of a Yakuza presence - no glimpses of elaborate tattoos, no severed pinky fingers on janitors.

Lunch was with their board of directors, some of whom weren't fluent in English, as Matsudaira had noted. He translated Selene's words, and Mika translated theirs, a chess move that assured accuracy on both fronts.

It was then that Selene picked up on the presence of their visitor from the night before. He was another aide to Toshiro Kimura, Pacific Rim's CEO, and seemed to be another non-entity, except for eyes that held a familiar watchfulness, which made him a troubleshooter or attack dog, a term that made Selene smile.

Hitoshi Ryder, of course, had his own pieces on the board. James Sokatsu was cut from the same cloth, and Mika Hanamura ... well, her background would have to be examined. Played right, they might even be able to recruit her as a human ally.

The afternoon was much the same, a tour of two other holdings, a second hotel and a small casino. There were no blemishes on this golden apple. If the Westview Group didn't agree to the merger, the Janus Group would certainly take an interest in it.

Dinner was at Toshiro Kimura's home. Pacific Rim's CEO was a collector of art and artifacts, including a set of lacquer armor and statues of the Amaterasu, though there were no indications that he held any religious devotions to the pantheon.

If she wished, Matsudaira would accompany Selene to any of the various nightclubs and entertainment venues held by Pacific Rim. Tomorrow, there would be a tour of a recording label among their holdings, which could certainly offer new possibilities for live entertainment at the Westview Grand.

The _Myūjikaru no hōseki_ (Musical Gem) recording label was a full-service company, incorporating agents, performance coaches, production facilities, advertising, and tour management. Selene and Mika were introduced to the members of several J-Pop groups, but also sat in on a portion of a scoring session for a film, as the company had a soundstage capable of holding a symphony orchestra.

"As you can imagine, a merger with the Westview Group could open new venues to our artists, extending their reach to new audiences," Matsudaira said.

Another luncheon with the Board of Directors followed, along with an small ceremony, an exchange of gifts between the two parties. Selene had been amused at the notion, but Hitoshi and Mika had been insistent - one simply did not do business in Japan without observing customs, even if the merger were to be declined.

And while the gifts were modest, nor were they disposable trinkets or branded glassware. Fountain pens, printed scarves for the women, and tie clasps or stick pins with gold cranes bearing a Swarovski crystal were presented to Selene for herself and the Westview board members.

In return, Mika had chosen cufflinks set with deep red garnets for the Pacific Rim board members (all men), and a decorative brooch for Toshiro Kimura's wife.

Their business concluded, Selene and Mika would return on a flight that would have them back in Las Vegas just after midnight.

* * *

(No Date - Report on Fact-Finding Tour)

The 10-hour flight from Narita International to LAX was followed by an American Eagle flight to Las Vegas. Mika returned home at 3AM local; their meeting with Hitoshi to discuss their findings would, thankfully, be at an informal lunch meeting with those Westview board members who were still at hand.

Selene had feigned travel weariness once more, then shed the facade once she was home.

"I don't need to hear you breathing to know you're there, Armand," she said quietly.

"That's not my name anymore," Lyman said. "Did you have a nice trip?"

"Routine. Pacific Rim tossed my room," Selene said dismissively. I'm not sure if that's corporate espionage, Yakuza meddling, or perhaps one of Amaterasu's brood poking about."

"And your recommendation?" Lyman/Roget asked.

"Approval. It gives us a presence in Japan."

"Indeed. You've done well, Selene."

"Don't condescend to me, Armand," Selene snarled.

"What can I say?" Lyman smirked. "It's good to be king."

The meeting was with Hitoshi, Amelie Pelletier, and two other board members. Gregory Mason and Doug Maxwell were absent.  
"It's a very well-run and efficient operation, that appears to be built upon traditional Japanese lines," Selene explained. "There are no women on their board of directors, but they did not seem to be put out by having to deal with me."

Hitoshi folds his hands in front of him. "I see." he nods at Selene and turns his attention to Mika Hanamura. "Mika, what did you see?" He asks quietly.

Mika bows before answering.

"Hitoshi, it is as Ms. Chase described. Pacific Rim is a business concern run along traditional Japanese lines. Japanese corporate culture, of course, is not entirely the same as American corporate culture. The holdings are well-run, and accurately depicted in their prospectus.

She ends with a direct gaze that suggests she has more to say, but not in public.

"Thank you, both of you." Hitoshi smiles. Looking at his watch. "Well I am going to suggest that we meet again to make this final decision since Mason and Maxwell are not here at this time. My suggestion is to meet Monday at ten AM to make that decision to give them time to take in the information, and to give Mika and Selene time to rest and recover from their long trip."

He stands and pushes in his chair. "Any objections to this?"

"No," says Amelie. "However, I'd like to know where you stand, so I can take the sparkle out of Gregory's morning."

"Heh" Hitoshi chucles. "Well I am inclined to say yes so long as we proceed carefully."

"Then we're adjourned until then?" Selene asks. "Crossing the International Date Line is always confusing."  
"Unless Hitoshi has something more for us ...?" Amelie says.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Nope, nothing. Get some sleep folks, we shall reconvene on the big issue Monday." He smiles and shoots a look towards Mika.

"Oh! I am being remiss," Mika said. "Part of Japanese custom, particularly in business, is to give small gifts to one's business associates. Kimura-san presented these for the Westview Group board members."

She picks up a small reusable tote and lays out the gifts that were presented.

"Hitoshi-san, I will make arrangements for a reciprocal gesture in case Kimura-san and the Pacific Rim board wish to visit."

She excuses herself to the same side office/conference room as before, appearing to busy herself with her tablet computer.  
After bidding the other board members farewell, Hitoshi enters the room.

"You have more to add to your report, Mika?"

"I do, Hitoshi-san," she says quietly. "First, my room was very expertly searched. I learned to set tell-tales against snooping when I was a teenage girl with three brothers. It is likely they also searched Selene's room, though she does not believe anything was out of place."

"At best, it is corporate espionage and shows a measure of ruthlessness by our prospective business partners. Worst case, they are another Yakuza concern curious as to why the daughter of a rival Yakuza crime lord is in their territory."

She frowns.

"Also, despite her claim to the contrary, Selene speaks Japanese. It was very subtle, but she was following a conversation between board members at our dinner with Kimura-san."

She reaches into her portfolio case and takes out a small box. She bows and presents it to you.

"Hitoshi-san, this is a small thank you for entrusting me with being your eyes and ears on Selene's visit to Japan," Mika says. "I have a gift for Karen, as well, but I will give that to her when I see her."

The box is of lacquered wood, with a small catch. Opening it, you find a_kaiken,_ \- a dagger made from the broken end of a katana. The hilt and sheath are made from a mahogany so dark as to almost be black. The quality of the blade is evident, including a _hamon_ or temper line that isn't sandblasted or stenciled onto the blade.

Hitoshi sets the box down, and carefully closes the lid. Then he bows. "Domo Arigato Mika-san."

He pulls out a chair and sits. "What you have said worries me, but it isn't anything I can bring up to the rest of the board. I can talk to Selene privately about her lying, but I don't think that will affect the boards decision to merge with Pacific Rim."

Crossing his arms he leans back and thinks for a moment.

"Would you be willing to be my eyes and ears after the Merger? Your insight into things is something that I consider valuable. I don't want this company taking us over from within."

Mika gives you a formal bow. "I would be honored to serve in that capacity, Hitoshi-san.," she says.

Hotoshi smiles. "No need to be formal anymore Mika. You passed my test, and have earned my trust. behind closed doors, formality can be tossed away."

"Thank you, Hitoshi," Mika smiles. "Do you want me to do further research into Pacfic Rim to see if I can discover what clan, exactly, we are dealing with?"

"If you wish to, then yes. Otherwise, I don't want you to do anything that might cause you to put yourself at risk. " Hitoshi replies solemnly.

"I will 'take a look around,' then, and advise you of my findings. I will try to have the information ready for you before the meeting on Monday," Mika says.


	15. The Benefit Concert

(Dive Benefit Concert - Saturday Night)

The parking lot for The Dive and the apartment complex is repurposed for the crash benefit concert. A collage of photos of the residents - old and young alike - is posted alongside a description of how the evictions violate established law and a call to action. Phone numbers and e-mail addresses for the Mayor's office and the City Planning Commission are posted for people to call.  
Word of the concert draws the band's fan base, tenants and their friends, and regulars from The Dive. Local news stations have crews reporting the story as city politics and as a human interest story.

Of the _Manada de Lobos,_ there is no sign ...

Dressed in a ragged, old T-shirt sporting a rather dapper evee on the front, Evie leans against the building wall clutching a cup of black coffee in her hand. She had not bothered to put on anything fancy when Lya called her not too long after everyone had departed from the sushi restaurant. Now, she's just trying to stay awake. Certainly, the caffeine, noise and abundant activity is helping, but she can feel drowsiness tugging at the edge of her consciousness.

_I should go home and grab my vest, just in case,_ she thinks as she takes a sip of coffee. She wrinkles her nose at the bitterness of the brew. _Blegh._

However, it could take her awhile to make the drive and, frankly, she doesn't want to be away that long. With everything else that has been going down, who knows what is going to happen, if it is going to happen, or when it will happen.

_Maybe this will all be quiet,_ she thinks hopefully. Evie keeps a close eye on the crowd, watching people as they come and go. _There's news cameras, hopefully some undercover cops...lots and lots of eyes. Could be good, could be bad. Lots of people to see, but also lots of activity to confuse._

_Hmmmm..._ she glances around, looking to see if there are any fire escapes on nearby buildings. _Maybe I should get higher. Better view._

Lya makes a face as Klepto makes the final adjustments on her toga for her. "Just hold still already..." she tightens Lya's girdle in the back and straightens a fold before stepping back and smiling.

"What... do I have something on my face?" Lya asks worriedly as she reaches up only to have her hand smacked by Klepto.

"Don't you touch anything..." Klepto warns before sighing and smiling slightly. "Your dad would be proud of you, you know."

"I'll take your word for it," Lya chuckles before turning to Toxic who is looking out the window at the gathering crowd in the parking lot. "How's it look out there?"

"Pretty normal so far... no sign of the Lobos that I can see," answers Toxic.

"You'd think I'd be happy at that, but..." Lya mutters.

"You can't help but feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop," Klepto finishes with a knowing look as she places her hands on Lya's shoulders. "Remember why we're doing this... it's to help those people out there. If the shit hits the fan, that's why you've got _us."_

Lya nods and smiles. "Couldn't do it without you guys." She picks up her cell phone and sends quick texts to Alex, Hitoshi and Evie:

_"The show's getting ready to start... where are you guys?"_

Evie's phone tweeps at her and she picks it up to see Lya's message.

_Across the street from the Dive, near Sun-o-Rama. Looking for higher ground, right now. Might be good to have a better view of the crowd._

Sun-o-Rama is a little tanning / nail salon. At this hour, the place is dark and barred gates have been pulled down across the windows and doors. But, you can look in and see the empty chairs and lines of nail polish, all awaiting customers on the morrow.

Alex glanced down at his smartphone, tapped out a quick reply. _Over by the collage with some of the newsies._

"So, you're dating punk rock musicians now, Alex?" asked Megan Whittaker.

"Well, I was interested in this one reporter, but she's engaged to some tech startup guy," Alex winked.

"Seriously, Alex. Even most police officers don't get shot at twice in one week. Maybe it's time to take a vacation."

"Says the woman who sticks microphones in the faces of corrupt politicians and mob bosses," Alex said.

"Fair enough. What's the deal with this place?" Megan asked, motioning for her photographer to start recording.

"Eviction notices were served after close of business on a Friday. Residents were told to pack up and be out by noon tomorrow," Alex told her. "That's not how it works. Someone bought up the property and wants to redevelop it? Fine. Folks living here get thirty days to find a new place to live. The concert is to call attention to that, and to raise some money to help tenants relocate."

"Do you know who's responsible?"

"If it's a legitimate order, it'll be in public records," Alex told her. "Talk to Max Bayer over at the City Planning Commission."

"I will."

Hotoshi pulls up to the Concert in his custom mustang. Parking, he opens the door and slides out of the seat and after straightening his blood red tie against his black suit jacket and shirt, he walks over to open the door for Mika Hanamura and helps her out.

"I'm glad we took the mustang instead of the Limo like mom suggested. If we had the press would have been on us immediately. At least this way we might make it backstage."

His phone buzzes and he looks at it then quickly texts a reply.

_"I just pulled up."_

Sliding his phone back inside his jacket he grabs his cane and they quickly make their way through the crowd toward the entrance to the back of the stage.

"Ok, the gang's all here then," Lya tells the others as she checks the replies on her phone.

"Time to get this show started!" Toxic cheers as she grabs her guitar.

Lya takes a swig from her flask before taking a deep breath and smiling at the others. "One way or the other, we're going to give them a night they'll never forget. Let's rock!"

The others cheer as Lya opens the door to the bar and heads to the back entrance of the stage...

Its several songs in when the anticipated disruption occurs.

A tricked-out truck rolls slowly down the street, the thrum of subwoofers pumping out Salsa music. There's a half-dozen gang members in the truck bed. And the truck stops opposite the outdoor stage. The boom of the truck's stereo grows louder ...

Evie had located another apartment building across the street from The Dive and climbed the fire escape. From the top of the building, she watches.

_I'm Batman,_ she thinks to herself in an amused, gravelly internal voice.

For a while, she simply sits and listens to the music, her eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. She has her phone in her hand and the gang on speed-dial, ready to call down when she sees anything unusual.

When the Lobos roll in in their truck, radio blaring, she simply shakes her head. _Stupid jerks,_ she thinks. Large portions of the people down there are either personally affected by the eviction or are fans of The Furies. They probably aren't going to take kindly to anyone trying to disrupt their fundraising efforts. Evie shakes her head and waits, wondering when someone is going to try and flip the truck.

However, Evie doubles her watchfulness, now alert for anything less obvious. The Lobos are expendable goons, sent in to stir the pot and cause trouble. It could well be that they are nothing more than a distraction to cover something else...

Orithia's eyes narrow as she watches the truck pull up and she nudges Lya as they're in-between songs. Lya grips the microphone a little tighter as she nods to the others on stage before speaking out to the crowd.

"It's amazing to see so many of you out there in the crowd tonight! I really want to thank everyone for showing up, because tonight isn't about the music... it's about the people who struggle on a daily basis to work and survive in this town. Companies think they can just walk all over us in the name of progress... but I say they're wrong... because when we come together as one we can't be ignored..."

Phoebe's bass kicks into a low driving beat as Lya continues...

"When we come together as one we can't be defeated...because we are all we have tonight!"

The rest of the band kicks in as they break into song:

_Whoa whoa ohh we are all we have tonight_  
_Whoa whoa ohh we are all we have tonight_  
_Whoa whoa ohh we are all we have tonight_

_The ones you can't control_  
_Have only one another to depend upon_  
_Displaced from society outcast we are_  
_We have nothing to live up to_  
_WE ARE ALL WE HAVE!_

"Hey, glad you could stop by!" Alex smiles broadly, calling out to the truck's driver and the gang members that are riding in the back. He holds out one of the coffee cans being used to collect donations. "Folks - hard-working people just like you - are getting evicted so a developer can build some new condominiums."

"What's it to you, _pendejo_?" comes the answer. "You're that _puta cabron_from the diner."

"Oh, that's right. You're the mental midget who wanted to pull a knife on me in front of a police officer," Alex said. "I've faced Mudjehadeen with AK-47s. You? You're a joke."

"You're gonna get yours, _mano_," the gang member snarled.

"Standing right here, junior."

Another gang member's hand darts into his jacket pocket. Alex tenses, but the gang member pulls out a five-dollar bill. "Julio, shut the fuck up. And you, lawyer-man, here, put this in your collection basket."

"Appreciate it," Alex says.

There's some disagreement between the gang members, with Julio glaring at Alex, and several of the others taking pains to look innocuous. They turn their stereo down and watch the show, though they are clearly ogling Lya and the Furies.  
But there are no further shows of aggression on their part.

It's ironic, and perhaps fortunate, that Evie is watching from the vantage of a rooftop. She hears a muffled _whouf_ and then sees a plume of smoke tinged with flame appear behind the building ...

"Aw, crap..." without even thinking, Evie dials 911. "This is Detective Cartwright with LVPD. I'd like to report a fire. It just happened. Behind the apartment buildings by The Dive." She quickly gives the emergency crew an address and description of what she sees.

Her lips press together as she continues, "There's a fundraising concert going on in front of The Dive, right now. Lots of people and news crews down here. It's going to be a mess trying to get to anything from the main drag. I'm going to go see what's what, if I can. I'll call back in a few."

Knowing that Lya is busy on stage and probably doesn't have her phone on her, much less on, Evie shoots a brief text to Hitoshi and Alex. _Fire behind the apartments. Have called 911. Going to check it out._

She runs towards the fire escape and begins to pelt down it, taking the steps two and three at a time. She knows that fires like that spread and grow quickly. If there's anything she can do to help, she has to move now.

Alex catches a whiff of the smoke, sees the black fume rising from behind the building, flames darting towards the sky. Whatever the source, it won't be long before the fire spreads and does more than scorch a wall or a dumpster.

It's a bit too convenient that the _Lobos_ truck has bottlenecked traffic, with cars from both directions caught in a nasty tangle, but there's nothing that they can be called out upon.

Several of the news crews notices the smoke and flames as well, and the move away from the stage and crowd draws attention to the fire. A wave of nudges and hey-look-at-that ensues ...

Evie hits the ground running, making a beeline for her car. Though she has to plow through people, eliciting startled or angry cries from some, she doesn't let that stop her. Reaching her car, she pops the trunk and pulls out the fire extinguisher she keeps for roadside emergencies. (She's seen car fires along the road during her span as an officer.)

She knows that there's not much she'll be able to do but maybe she can help delay spread long enough for the fire department to get here. Evie grimaces at the paltry tool in her hand, knowing that it will amount to spitting on a bonfire. But, she doesn't have anything else available. And, she's not sure that she would be able to open a fire hydrant without the proper tools.

As she runs towards the fire, she keeps an eye out for any faucets with hoses along the way.

The crowd isn't panicking, at least not yet, but there is genuine concern from tenants who are not only out on the street with the clothes they have on their backs, but are perhaps watching everything else of material value go up in smoke.

Alex realizes there's nothing he can do by babysitting the _Lobos,_ other than corroborate their alibi. He hands the donation can to The Dive's owner and sees Evie making her way towards the alleyway and the thickening smoke.

There's the smell of burning rubber and gasoline. Someone put a match to a broken-down car and a nearby dumpster. After rolling the dumpster into the adjacent parking space, so the building would catch. The whole of the carport is involved, cross beams starting to collapse, and a churning sea of black smoke ...

Hitoshi frowns then takes off toward the back of the apartment complex, whipping off his suit jacket as he does so. Reaching the back, he pulls out the envelopes containing signed checks and puts them deep into his back pocket before he dunks the jacket into a muddy, slimy bucket of water left over from god only know how many rains, and wraps it around his hands for protection before throwing his whole weight hands first against the dumpster in an effort to push it out of the way.

"Alex, can you get the car?!"

He yells as he feels the heat against his face and through the wet cloth around his hands and arms.

"Push it into the Middle of the Alley away from the buildings!"

He feels the dumpster move, inch by inch it rolls out from under the carport.

Alex pulls his t-shirt up across his mouth and nose, and drapes his jacket over his hands for a minimum of protection. It's not a question of pushing the car, but getting close enough to begin with.

"Evie, save some of that for me," he says, looking at the fire extinguisher. And then he charges into the flames.

The heat is more than sufficient to burn on contact. His jacket will be a write-off for sure, less protection than a kitchen pot-holder in a blast furnace, but enough to get a purchase on the burning vehicle. Between already-slagged tires and the car's inherent weight, Alex isn't sure he can do much. It's not at all like push-starting a car in neutral ...

... but his hands slam into the front edge of the car's hood. There's the sound of tearing metal, and the realization that the minivan isn't as heavy as he'd thought. Alex puts his shoulders into it and begins edging the car back out of its space.

_Move, you bastard_, he thinks to himself. _Just another yard.  
_  
He feels the drag increase, and distantly realizes the car's rear axle had been up on blocks. The vehicle lurches and scrapes on the pavement. Ignoring the searing heat, Alex gives a scream of frustration and redoubles his efforts ...

... and the car slides the last few feet out of the carport, hard enough to smash into the cinderblock wall behind it. Tossing his jacket aside, Alex runs out into the open, slapping at spots where embers have burned through his clothes.

"Evie!" he yells.

Evie, standing ready from the moment the burning vehicle was pushed clear, hits Alex with a burst from her fire extinguisher, mindful to start at his feet and work her way up.

"Wow!" someone exclaims, and you can see someone - a young girl from a neighboring complex - peering over the wall and recording the whole thing with her smartphone ...

"Hey let's organize some help here," Lya announces over the mic to the crowd. "I know there's at least two more fire extinguishers as well as buckets and big sinks to fill them in the bar. Klepto, Orithia, grab the fire extinguishers. Toxic, Phoebe, start filling up the buckets."

She turns to the people starting to panic in the crowd and whispers a prayer to her father as she turns off the mic and addresses them. "We can make this right if we take our fate in our own hands and work together as one. Those of you who parked on the street you're going to need to move your vehicles for the emergency crews to get through; this goes especially for news vans." She points towards the bar back door. "If we can get a bucket brigade or two lined up we'll use the water from the bar and get this thing out in no time, people. Just stay focused and we'll show the world how strong we are when it tries to take us down!"

The wave of panic rippling through the audience breaks upon Lya's words. There are nods of agreement, and a sudden bustle of activity as a can-do spirit quickly spreads through the crowd. A bucket brigade forms in short order, tenants, fans, and even one reporter. The line reaches the carport just as Hitoshi and Alex wrangle the flaming dumpster and car into the open.

"Focus on the carport!" Evie calls out. "Aim for the base of the flames!"

The bucket brigade delivers the water as requested, and it helps clear some of the smoke as well as knock down the worst of the flames. Fire extinguishers from the bar, and from emergency boxes along the walkways are brought into play against the car and dumpster.

Fire crews and police units arrive fifteen minutes later, their more powerful hoses making quick work of the fire. The chief is clear that the efforts of the crowd, and of Hitoshi and Alex moving the car and dumpster clear of the carport, made the difference.

Hitoshi walks over to Alex and claps him on the back.

"Man, you look like I feel. Extra crispy." He shakes out his Suit jacket and looks at it singed and ruined.

"Damn, that ain't coming out in the wash." Then he sees the girl with the phone.

"Uh oh. this needs to be headed off at the past." Slinging what's left of his suit jacket over his right shoulder he walks over to the girl and smiles.

"So what did ya get on that thing? Anything before the Heroics?"

"You mean you and Captain America over there?" the girl asks. "Damn, that was better than the movies. I didn't see how it started, if that's what you're asking. Sent my kid brother to call 911, figured I could sell this to the news people."

Hitoshi smiles again and pulls his checkbook out of his back pocket along with a pen. "I'm Hitoshi Ryder, and I'm the new CEO of the Westview grand. How much do you want for the footage?" He opens the checkbook and clicks the pen for emphasis. "Three digits? Four digits?"

Evie heaves a sigh of relief, glad to see that everything has worked out. Certainly, the building is worse for the wear and Hitoshi and Alex are a bit crispier than usual but things could've gone much, much worse. Thank goodness Lya was able to motivate the crowd, keeping them collected, focused and not a panicky mob.

At this point, it looks like everyone's attention is focused elsewhere - upon the two heroes, the efforts of the crowd and the firefighters, Lya and the rest of the band as they continue to rally those around them.

The detective quietly slips away, moving back across the street to the fire escape, once more. She climbs and takes up her place on the roof, watching. The fire might be all that Lyman was willing to pull, this evening, or it might not...

In this particular case, paranoia isn't exactly unwarranted.

She shoots a quick text to the crew, _Back on watch, just in case._

"Pleased to meetcha, Hitoshi-Ryder-new-CEO-of-the-Westview-Grand. My cousin does this all the time," the girl says. "News guys pay $500, but it's not exclusive. He sells to KTNV, runs down the street and sells the same stuff to KXNT. That's not what you're talking about, is it?"

Hitoshi starts scribbling on the check.

"How's three thousand sound to make sure it NEVER reaches anyone. I and My friend don't need that kind of publicity, and I am willing to pay good money to make sure we don't get it. Three thousand, no cloud, no longer on your phone, you were not even back here. In fact, I believe you were at the concert down the street watching the Furies from the front row."

"Serious? You don't want me saying anything, either, I guess," the girl says. "Deal, Mr. Ryder."

She takes the check from you, then calls up the video and taps the trash-can icon. An 'Are You Sure?' dialogue box pops up, and she faces the phone towards Hitoshi.

"Press 'OK' and it's gone."

Meanwhile, Alex makes his way back to the front of the building. His face is covered in soot and streaked with sweat. His clothes are stained with fire retardant.

"You look like shit, Alex," Toxic laughs. "Grab a t-shirt from the table."

Alex nods, pausing only to fill a bucket and dump it over his head. He whips off his singed shirt and wipes the worst of the smoke and grime from his face, tossing it aside. He dons the black t-shirt bearing the logos of the band and The Dive.

"Drink some water," advises one of the firefighters who is also returning from the back. "Gutsy move, man, you guys pushing that stuff out of the carport. Next time, though, leave it for the firefighters. Maybe go over to the paramedics and get some oxygen."

"I'm fine," Alex says at first. But a glance over to where the EMTs are standing gives him a glimpse of a familiar face. He coughs, and adds, "Maybe you're right. Thanks."

_Good idea this feels like a distraction_ Lya texts back to the others. _Hope everyone is OK._

She slips her phone back into her toga and gathers the Furies back on stage now that the fire has been taken care of. "I've just got to say that you guys are awesome," Lya announces to the crowd over the mic. "Tonight you guys are the stars who refuse to stop shining... and this song is for you. Feel free to sing along, because I think we all know the words..."

_We'll be singing_  
_When we're winning_  
_We'll be singing_

Lya raises her hand into the air and she and the Furies jump in time as the song continues...

_I get knocked down_  
_But I get up again_  
_You're never gonna keep me down_  
_I get knocked down_  
_But I get up again_  
_You're never gonna keep me down_

Hitoshi smiles. "It would be considered a personal favor if all you saw was the concert, and by the time you got back here, the firefighters had it all taken care of thanks to the help of the crowd."

He hits the _"Ok"_ button then raises an eyebrow.

"And you are honest that it's not on the cloud or as a Google backup?"

"You dissing my honesty?" the girl asks as she pockets her phone. "How'd you like it if I asked you if this check was good? Video's gone, gone." She reaches around and swipes to the settings pane. "See? I don't have cloud anything enabled."

Alex approaches the blonde paramedic he'd seen the night before.

"Hey. We gotta stop meeting like this," he smiles.

"Alex," is all she says. "You're not injured, are you? And Hitoshi?"

"A little singed, and I got a lungful of smoke, but otherwise okay," Alex told her.

"Sit down," she says. She slips an oxygen mask over his face and opens the valve. "Just breathe normally. A few minutes will help clear things out."

"Mmmph," Alex replies through the mask.

The paramedic takes his vitals and checks his papillary response as he takes in the oxygen. The mild nausea he'd felt from the fumes clears up, and the mask comes off after ten minutes.

"So ... dinner," Alex smiles. "I'm serious. Unless that's a conflict of interest kind of thing."

"It's not," she says. "I am neither your bodyguard or savior, Son of Tyr. I had no idea who you were until I came for the others."

"Please, call me Alex."

"All right. Alex. When the enemy named you that day, it ... broke the rules. You should not have been able to see me, or your friends," she told him. "We are fate bound; to what end, I do not know."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she smiles. "Tomorrow? Sunday. I'm off duty. At least, as far as being an EMT goes."

"Okay. Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere is fine."

"Soul Food Diner?" Alex asked. Maggie would fuss over them, and Rick would doubtless add something special to their meal.  
"I'll meet you there at six," she says. "And, because you're about to ask, you can call me Valeria. Val."

Hitoshi chuckles. "Ok, you have me there." He hands back the phone.

"Thanks for the save. Now, I have to get back to helping save this event."

With that said he heads back to the concert itself, passing by Alex as he does so.

"Come on old man, you'd get more crap from cigarettes than you will from what you just did."

"Been in a flaming wreck before," Alex says. "No fun. Gonna find some water to splash on my face, wash this crap off. That girl have anything useful, or just us doing the powers-far-beyond-those-of-mortal-men gig?"

Evie watches the crowd below, for a second, smiling as Lya leads them in a Chumbawumba song. However, she decides to make a round along the top of her building, looking down into the alleyways below and across the other rooftops. She knows that there's still a crap ton of places that she can't see from here, but...still...that's no excuse for not being as thorough as she can.

Evie can see firefighters doing a walk-around of the property. Although she cannot see it, she hears radio traffic relating the discovery of accelerants and other indications that the fire was deliberately set. It's disturbing, as it shows the enemy doesn't really care about collateral damage - there are over twenty other tenants in the complex, ranging from single mothers to elderly shut-ins living off their Social Security benefits.

"We'll have to check the security cameras," a firefighter says.

You hope that it's not the usual neglected system built on a woefully-obsolete computer ...

"What the hell?" someone exclaims upon seeing the stage and instruments, along with fire engines, an ambulance, and several police cruisers. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Benefit concert to help the folks being evicted," another person chimes in.

"Evicted? By who?"

"Fucking landlord, I guess. Sold out to a developer," comes the answer. "Everybody got eviction notices."

"_What_ eviction notices?" demands the newcomer. He shouts and waves to The Dive's owner. "Cyndi! What's this about eviction notices?"

"Bunch of process servers and private security showed up yesterday evening, posted the notices, told me to get out by noon today, put locks on the apartments if nobody was home," she says. "That wasn't you?"

"I just flew in from Hawaii, was on vacation for two weeks," the owner says. "Whatever this is, I had nothing to do with it! And what's with the fire engines?"

"Sir, are you the owner of the building?" asks a firefighter.

"Yes, goddamnit!"

"Someone started a fire in the carport out back," the firefighter says. "There's some minor structural damage, and the one unit directly above where the fire was will probably have to be vacated until repairs are made. But if it wasn't for everyone here, it would have been much worse."

Evie's rage sits at a slow simmer. It's one thing to try and take out any one of the scions. They are what they are and, apparently, this sort of thing comes with the territory. But, such disregard for innocent lives...

She sighs and runs a hand across her forehead, smudging more soot across her flesh. Honestly, she's not surprised. Her anger quickly dissipates as she turns the situation over in her mind, focusing on the problem rather than her feelings. Of course, they don't care about the tenants. After all, if things go their way, no one will be left alive. Everyone will meet the same, unpleasant fate. So, these people are meaningless to Lyman and his ilk. They are merely pawns, tools. obstacles...

When she hears the chatter referring to a security camera, she stops in her circuit and bites her lip. One the one hand, it could have evidence of who started this. On the other, it could also have caught Alex and Hitoshi in the act...if it even works. Who knows with these old systems? And, Hitoshi seemed pretty intent on keeping their actions on the down low.

_The building has security cameras_ she texts the gang. _I don't know how old or reliable they are, but they could've caught any action that took place in the alley._

_There,_ she thinks. _If anyone follows this text trail, that's vague enough that no one will blink an eye. Not a warning. Just informative._

"He shoots. He scores!" Val's partner murmurs as Alex moves away from the ambulance. "You're not the first one to try picking her up."

"We just felt like we had something in common," Alex shrugged. Which was true, but not in the sense most people would think.

"So, what do you do other than hang around mosh pits and arsons?"

"I'm a lawyer."

"Figures."

_Tweep._ Alex checks his smartphone, though, it, too, is smeared with soot and grime, despite having been on his belt throughout. He sees Evie's message and takes its meaning immediately. Sooner or later, someone was going to start adding things up.  
What was it the young girl had called him? _Captain America_? Even if that actor was a damned sight more photogenic than he.

Hitoshi sighs. "Nope, just us. I took care of it. Three thousand can get damn near anything deleted."

His phone beeps and he looks at it.

"Well, almost anything. Seems this place has cameras about. Who would have thought. My bet is they have either been messed with or are old enough that the images will be grainy and out of focus."

"A smartphone, that's probably new enough to capture a decent picture. Your average security camera probably freaked out with flames that bright," Alex said. "Well, I hope so, at least. I guess we'll see when it makes the news."

"It's going to get out sooner or later. A news photographer I know _knows_ I got shot with pre-frag rounds the other night," he adds.

"Thank you all for coming tonight and showing the good that we're all capable of when we realize we're all in this together," Lya announces over the mic after their last song ends.

"I thank you, the Furies thank you, and so do the people who lost a home but gained a little bit of hope. Thank you and good night!"

The rest of the Furies join Lya around the mic and cheer, "You guys rock! Don't give up the fight!" before they all wave to the cheering audience and proceed to hop off the back of the stage.

"Well when it happens, it happens. We shall deal with it then." Hitoshi says grimacing. He smiles as the girls jump off the back of the stage, reaching into his back pocket for the banker checks, and walks up to Lya.

"Once again, you and the girls are amazing." He still smells like smoke, and his white suit is singed and burned. He holds out the checks to Lya.

"The board heard about it and some of them wanted to pitch in as well. My check is in there with the rest. It should help these people get back on their feet."

He coughs a bit then smiles slightly.

"Oh, remind me to beat the ever loving shit out of whoever did this, and don't let me stop until they have to drink through a straw."

"Seeing as I'm the one pushing cars around, you hold 'em, _I'll_ hit 'em. Should be interesting," Alex winks.

"We just remind people that we can _all_ be heroes," Lya replies with a grin as she takes the checks and tucks them into her toga with her phone.

"You guys, on the other hand, seemed to _really_ take our songs to heart," she jokes as she rubs some soot off of Hitoshi's cheek. "I'm glad you're not hurt. This money will be a great help to those people... thank you.""

"Not bad, Alex... not bad at all," Klepto adds with a smile as she claps Alex on the back.

"Have you guys seen Evie yet? I know she was playing scout up on the roof... haven't heard from her since before the song started though. Did she find something?"

At this point, another quick text appears on everyone's phone from Evie.

_So far, I don't see anything else. I'm going to stay up here until the crowd filters out, though. Ping me if you need me and have plans._

Hitoshi shrugs nonchalantly. "Somebody had to keep the place from burning down."

He looks at his suit. "That bastard caused me to ruin a brand new suit though. I also seem to have lost my date, and by date, I mean my personal assistant. " He says looking around for Mika.

"She's over by the collage," Alex says. "Kind of took over when you and I went to investigate the fire."

Mika puts in a timely appearance as the news crews begin to flock about, looking for a comment about Hitoshi's heroics. "Mr. Ryder did what any concerned citizen would do," she says. "But that isn't why he's here. He is here to call attention to the plight of the tenants in this complex, who were given eviction notices in an improper manner. If we want Las Vegas to prosper, we must care about what happens to all of its residents."

"Megan Whittaker, KLAS," says one reporter. "The building owner says he didn't file those eviction notices."

"Which doesn't change the fact that the residents were inconvenienced, and some locked out of their homes overnight, or told that they would have to close their business," Mika points out.

"Who do you think is behind it?"

"That isn't my place to say," Mika smiles. "Thank you for covering the story."

From her vantage point, Evie finds herself wondering if this is something what it's like for Heimdall, standing upon the Bifrost, keeping a watchful eye on the other worlds from Asgard.

It is then that she realizes she's not alone.

For a moment, she wonders if one of the firefighters, or another officer has made their way to the roof, seeking a similar vantage; she is relieved to glimpse the blue serge of a police uniform ...

... except the jacket is of a style set aside decades before she joined the force, the name tag a slim bar of gold plate instead of the etched plastic used in the present day.

A name tag that reads, 'T. CARDINELLI.'

He gives Evie a colleague-to-colleague nod and joins her in her vigil.

Evie's heart leaps into her mouth. The rational part of her brain is doing some impressive gymnastics, trying to fight the initial urge to sprint far, far away because dead people don't just wander up to say 'hi.' Ghosts don't exist! She must be hallucinating from lack of sleep or...or...

_Oh, get over it, Evie,_ she thinks. _You haven't been awake long enough to reach that point. You know the gods exist. You know an afterlife exists. Therefore, spirits exist._

She returns Thomas' nod, looking at him carefully. She knows that he is a ghost and that knowledge alone sends all sorts of little creeps and tingles along her spine. However, he's not scary. Not at all! He simply looks like a fellow cop. There's no wailing, no rattling chains, nothing that says "I'm gonna eat your soul."

Still, she can't stop her hands from shaking slightly...

Evie takes a deep breath, steadying herself. She places her hands on the brick wall surrounding the top of the building to stop them from trembling.

"Hello, Thomas," she says in what she hopes is a calm voice. "What brings you up here, this evening...err...morning? Shouldn't you be in Valhalla?"

"I thought the same," Thomas says, frowning, "although there wasn't anything particularly glorious about being clobbered by a troll and buried alive. So I guess I have some ... unfinished business to attend to."

He takes a deep breath as if savoring the night air.

"I appreciate your looking in on my family, by the way."

"Holy shit," Evie breathes softly. "You were buried alive? I thought that blow to the head had killed you. I mean, even if you are like Alex and could heal, I figured that would've been instant death."

_What a horrible way to die,_ Evie feels nothing but sympathy for the soul before her. And, she must admit, knowing this...a different fear touches her heart, as well. Thomas' death now illuminates just exactly how cruel their enemies are.

"Of course," Evie replies. "If there's anything else I can do for you, for your family, just let me know." Her initial reaction to Thomas is fading. He seems so very...normal. Still dead, but normal.

She reaches up and rubs her hand across her face, undoubtedly smearing more sweat and soot across her skin, "Hopefully, if we can stop whatever Lyman has planned, we can send you off to Valhalla where you belong."

"What can you tell me about who and what you were fighting? I'm pretty positive that it's the same thing we are dealing with," she says. "I was planning on looking into where Armand Roget's money went after his death. Alex brought up the idea that he might've been a scion and, therefore, isn't actually dead. In that case, if I follow the money..."

"No air, no food. Thankfully, that didn't last long," Thomas said. "As for our friend Armand Roget, he's got a new name. He used to come down to the basement and gloat. He's calling himself Jason Lyman, I think."

"Their plan was to get a human under their sponsorship elected to public office. Go all the way to the U.S. Senate," Thomas says. "Would have worked, too ... except for the Red Scare. Suddenly, people were a little too worried about secret cabals and being beholden to 'outside forces.'

"They tried it again in the 1960's, but America wound up in Vietnam. I almost think Dad is fucking with them a little, using wars and civil unrest to set their plans on end."

"Lyman. We've met him," Evie frowns. "I'm positive that he's the one that orchestrated setting this building on fire. I don't know what he's trying to accomplish by doing it, though. All it amounts to, really, is a temper tantrum."

"Oh, you're not going to join me? Well, fine. I guess I'll just break all your toys, then," she shakes her head. "I don't think he gets it. By messing with us, with the people that we love and care about...it's not going to stop us. It's only going to piss us off and make it so that we never stop."

"In fact, I don't understand any of this. It doesn't make sense. He's deliberately drawing attention, provoking us...if he wanted to undermine everything and put himself in a position of power, he would do well to be quiet. Let us go about our lives thinking nothing is amiss," Evie muses aloud.

She pauses, her brow furrowing, "Maybe he wants to provoke us. But, why? Maybe so that he can lead us in the wrong direction...like luring a guard dog with a big, ol' tasty steak. But, what is he really doing, then?"

"So, I still need to follow the money. That will probably lead to more answers," she taps her lip in thought. "But, why did Roget want to have a puppet back then? What did he want to accomplish? Was it just for personal gain or something else?"

"America was at the height of its power. _The_ superpower," Thomas muses. "Admittedly, Joe McCarthy was a bit of a nutjob, but the right voice, or someone with the right adviser, could take the Cold War and turn it into World War III. Mankind would find itself in the middle of Ragnarok, and not have a clue how it happened."

"As for 'messing with us,' that's the honeymoon," he laughs. "They're trying to figure out which way we'll jump, who's important in our lives, and how much leverage that gives them. If they'd even looked cross-eyed at my sister, for example, I'd have tossed them off of Hoover Dam. Trust me, when they're ready, they'll come at you head-on.

"That's what did me in. I spent months digging up names, and came up with a list. You've seen it. Got too close, I guess."

"So, you think he's trying the same play a few decades later? It would make sense. Why mess with a good plan, especially when you wait long enough between attempts? Most folks who would remember have already passed, I would wager," she sighs, narrowing her eyes in thought. "Ever since 9-11, we've had the whole "war on terrorists" bullcrap going on. It would be easy to use a politician to further feed that fear and start another war. Hell, we've been spiraling towards a Big Brother situation for awhile, now. Paranoia has set in on many levels in the political realm. All it would really take would be another 9-11 and...BAM!"

Her lips press together in a grim line, one that she's sure Cardinelli has seen on many occasion if he's been trailing her all this time, "So, are...uhh...are you going to be hanging around? I'd like to be able to talk to the rest of the gang, see what they have to say. See if they have any questions they'd like to ask you. Knowing what you know could well give us the edge that we need. And, I don't trust myself to think of everything."

She smiles and shrugs, "I'm an officer. I live and think as one. It may well be that the others will come up with an angle that I wouldn't consider. It's the good thing about being on a team."

"The others probably won't be able to see me," Thomas tells you. "It all depends on where their gifts lie. But, sure."

Hitoshi makes a slicing motion against his throat at the mention of heroics and grimaces. Other than that he just watches as Mika handles the situation, just glad that the reporters haven't seen him yet.

"So Alex, my thinking is that If the Concert is over, we all best vanish like the wind before we become stuck answering a whole bunch of questions by Nosy reporters looking to put their own spin on things to make us look bad. They are always looking for a flaw to show to the world."

"The only flaw I'm worried about is someone figuring out the bad guys were using cop-killer rounds," Alex says. "Megan's photographer knows, but he's ex-combat camera and will keep a lid on it for now. Sooner or later, someone's going to figure it out."

Evie nods to Thomas, "Yeah, I'm prepared to play medium, in this case. But, I don't know what all the others can do, either. Heck, I'm not sure that they know. I know I don't know. I'm just sort of stumbling into this stuff as I go."

She moves to the fire escape and begins the descent back to the concrete below, "Thank goodness the first ghost I run into is you. I'll admit that I was pretty freaked out to see you but...you're okay. You're normal. No...weird...freaky...ghostly..._things._ I don't know that I would've held together so well had someone more..." Here, she pauses and waves her hands in a sort of vague gesture meant to encompass more than her words..."_bad_ shown up."

"Congratulations, Thomas! You are a perfect starter ghost!" she glances over her shoulder, and gives him a grin.

Evie reaches the ground and looks about, taking a moment to spot the others. Once she sees them, she begins moving in their direction.

"I'm somewhat new to the ghost thing myself," Thomas tells you. "I'd have thought I would look something like I did at the time of my death, but, then, that's not how I think of myself. I suppose it would be possible, for those who endured significant pain or agony, that it could shape their appearance.

"Or maybe it's as simple like the difference between frowning and smiling. I don't look scary to you because you're another police officer."

Hitoshi and Alex are standing by an ambulance, but neither of them appears to be injured. The blonde paramedic you saw at the club is packing up her gear, but she does an odd double-take as she looks from you and Thomas, and then, towards Alex.

Lya makes her way over to you, while the Furies are busy breaking down their gear.

"Evie! Glad you could rejoin us!" Lya says as she walks up to the cop. "Did you see anything interesting with your eagle eye view? This night just keeps getting crazier and crazier... turns out the owner of the building had nothing to do with the evictions and didn't even know about it!"

Evie shakes her head at this news and utters a soft, "Oi!" She's not even Jewish, but it seems like the most appropriate response to this situation. "I'm not surprised. Lyman is a bastard and this was just his way of poking us to see what we do."

"Actually, uhhh...yeah. Yup. I definitely have some interesting news. But, we should probably head somewhere where there are fewer folks before I start sharing," she says. Evie shoves her hands into her pockets and rolls her head, trying to relax her neck and shoulders a bit.

"Oh, and I don't think I need to say this but...the firefighters found evidence that it was arson. So, there will be a formal investigation into who did this. The building also has security cameras, so depending on how old and reliable the equipment is, we could possibly have video evidence of the act."

"There were a lot of news cameras around too... who knows if they might have caught something. I doubt Lyman does his own dirty work though... so it may be like looking for a needle in a haystack, without knowing what a needle looks like," she replies with a sigh before smiling.

"On the plus side, it looks like the concert went well for what we intended. Thanks to Hitoshi's fund raising and the help of the community at large it looks like we'll at least be able to provide all the outed people a first month's rent for a new place. Goodness knows I wouldn't want to stay here after dealing with all this crap."

She looks around the crowd and sees Cyndi talking with one of the reporters still here after taking care of the fire. "I've got to make sure she gets these checks from Hitoshi, and hopefully we can steer the media attention away from him and Alex and back to the people where it belongs. Be back in a few!"

"Arson? That figures," Alex says, still scrubbing at his hair and frowning as bits of char and goo come away on his fingers. "He knows who we all are, now. We can probably expect more of the same."

"Where to, then?" he asks, looking up. He coughs slightly and does a similar double-take, looking from you and Thomas' ghost to the paramedic.

"Evie, you got a little smudge of ash under your eye," he says, pointing to his own eye with a forefinger. A subtle cue to indicate he can see Thomas, perhaps.

"Oh, yeah," Evie grins and grabs the edge of her sleeve, raising it to wipe at the supposed smudge. Had she not seen his double take and his eyes focus beyond her shoulder, she may have missed the hint. However, as she lowers the sleeve, she looks directly at Alex and winks her eye. "At this point, I think we are all mostly soot. I'm surprised that I have any clean spots on me, at all."

"Hmmm...how about some breakfast? There's a little joint not too far from here that is open 24-7. I wager it's empty at this hour. Plus, I'm betting most the people here will head home or back to work when they are done."

"Works for me. Should I muss my hair some more, go with the punk look?" he grins.

"Well I know for one thing, I need to go take a shower and change clothes. Thousand dollars, up in smoke thanks to the Lobos. Until I do those two things, I'm not meeting anyone out anywhere. Actually I have a counter proposal. Let's all meet back at my place. We can order a Late pizza, and have a beer or two while we talk."

Hitoshi says throwing his partially burnt suit jacket over his shoulder.

"I'm running out of clothes to change in _to,_" Alex frowns. "What kind of pie do you like, thin crust, thick crust?"

"Sounds good to me," Evie says. "Personally, I like thin crust but I'm not picky. The only thing I ask is no mushrooms. Bleh! They're like little slime pockets once they are cooked."

"Ooo... I'll bring the beer!" Lya calls out as she rejoins the others with a laugh. "I think after what our 'heroes' went through you're all deserving of some of my 'special reserve.'" She looks over at Alex sporting one of their t-shirts from the concert and winks. "That's a good look on you, Alex... care to be our booth bunny at the next concert?"

"Sure. Unless Hitoshi needs another bouncer at the Westview ..." Alex grins. "So, a short break, and pizza with friends. What time, Hitoshi?"

"Give it an hour, if you're all still conscious," Hitoshi says.

"Alright, then. See you back at Hitoshi's in an hour," Evie waves to the others and makes her way back to the old Camry. She glances over her shoulder to see what Thomas will do. It would make the most sense for him to follow Hitoshi since they'll all be going back to his place. But, Thomas may enjoy having someone to talk to and follow herself or Alex...

At any rate, she gets into her car and makes her way home to shower and change into comfortable, clean clothing. Since she has Saturday off, she'll just throw on some jeans and a T-shirt before heading back out.

"Sounds like a plan, guys... that will give us time to finish packing up and I'll meet you there."


	16. The Sarcophagus Job

(Scion Pizza Confab - After the Ambush Benefit Concert)

Hitoshi shook his head as he regarded what had been an expensive suit. It wasn't the soot and grime - it was that drifting embers had burned several holes in the fabric _just large enough_ to ruin the jacket. He'd managed to grab a shower and change of clothes before the pizza delivery driver - a young woman - rang the doorbell.

"Three mega pizzas," the driver recited, looking at her smartphone. "One cheese, one pepperoni and sausage, and one pesto chicken with garlic. And a tray of salad. Comes to $55. Cash, debit, or credit?"

Hitoshi pulled out several bills and added a sizeable tip. "Here you go. Thanks for being quick on the delivery this late."

"Beats sitting around the shop schlepping supplies," she said. "Bye!"

The rest of the group began arriving shortly thereafter. Evie first, sipping on a cup of coffee. Lya and the Furies rolled up in the van, still a bit wired and upbeat from the performance. Alex was last, having discarded his smoke-scented jeans in favor of a pair of faded gray Army sweatpants.

Evie got out of the car, sipping at the cup of coffee she'd snagged from a drive-thru stand. It wasn't great, but it was hot, and it had caffeine. Thomas' ghost had ridden over with her, though she imagined that was a social courtesy.

"You can come in, right? You don't need an invitation or anything?" she asked.

Thomas shook his head. "I'm sure there's some kind of magic or purview that can block a ghost, but I don't think we have to ask permission first."

"Oh man that smells good!" Lya moans as she sniffs the pizza. "I brought some beer that I would be totally offended if you all didn't at least try it," she adds as Klepto sets two 12-packs of beer with the words "Brew Free or Die IPA!" on the side of them.

"We had to perform a birthday party for the owner of the brewery's kid just to get those," says Toxic as she opens up one of the 12-packs and starts handing out beers. "So drink up!"

Alex takes a beer and taps bottles with Toxic in salute. "Confusion to our enemies."

"This is good," he says after a long pull on the beer. "Needs some pizza."

"Anyway, with the landlord testifying that the evictions didn't originate with him, we should be able to get them dismissed without too much trouble," he explains.

"Even so, I'll be happier knowing that those who want to move out can now do so," Lya answers as she grabs a bottle and hops over the back to land on the couch. "There's no telling if Lyman and his cronies might try something_worse_ next time."

She cracks open the bottle and takes a long drag before leaning back and putting her feet up on the coffee table. "So Evie... what did you want to tell us, eh?"

Evie take a beer and sips as she leans back into the couch, sighing. Despite the coffee, her body is trying extra hard to convince her that it's time for bed. Warm pizza and beer isn't going to help, but there is no way that she's going to turn it down.

"Well, where to start," she says, looking askance at Thomas who is seated in a nearby chair. _Why doesn't he fall through?_

She puffs out a bit of air and says, "I guess the first thing to tell you is that one of my powers kicked in. It turns out that ...well...I see dead people."

"When I was up on the roof, I had a visitor - Thomas Cardinelli, the officer whose body was found in the Roget Building. I've asked him a little bit about what he was doing when he was killed, but I didn't go too far into anything. I wanted all of us to be able to talk to him. I figure you guys might think of things that wouldn't occur to me."

"And, he agreed. He's here and either Alex or I can relay any answers. I'm pretty positive that Alex can see him, too," she nods towards Alex.

"Firstly, all those names I gave you guys a few days ago? Those were people that Lyman was trying to use, he thinks, to get a someone into government. The idea was to cause World War III and bring down Ragnarok before anyone could do anything about it. It was that bit of information that probably brought Lyman to act directly against Thomas."

Evie pauses and takes another sip of beer, "Oh, I got ahead of myself. Roget Armand and Lyman are the same person. So, if we want to know what he's up to, I think our best bet is still to follow the money. If we know who and what he's buying, we can probably figure out what he's planning."

Here, she frown and shakes her head, "Also, a bit of warning. We all knew that Lyman was slime. We all knew that he doesn't care about people beyond what he can get out of them. But, he's also cruel. I thought Thomas was killed by the blow to the head (delivered by a troll, by the way) but that wasn't so. He was buried alive and Lyman would go down to the basement to gloat over his victory."

"Yes, I can see him," Alex says. "Nice to meet you, Officer Cardinelli. Thomas. I don't know if I've got the same thing going as Evie - I can't say I remember seeing any ghosts, but I saw a Valkyrie when my chopper was shot down years ago. She told me it wasn't my time.  
"I saw her again at the Westview, and at the benefit. She's a paramedic. And she said we were fate bound, whatever that means. I asked her out to dinner, and perhaps I can get a better explanation."

"There's a ghost in the chair? That's so cool!" says Lya as she walks over and gingerly waves her hand around the area of the chair to see if she can feel anything. "I guess suffering a gnarly fate like that makes him one of those 'angry spirits with something to settle on Earth, huh?"

She takes a sip of her drink. "Sorry I can't give you a beer, dude... glad you could join the party, though."

Evie tilts her head to listen to Thomas, then says, "Unfinished business. Though he wouldn't mind a little payback, it's not why he's here. He wants to see this through."

"Thomas, what were your gifts?" Alex asked. "Lyman asked me earlier what it would take to kill me, so it sounded like he wasn't sure what worked against you would work against me."

"Brother, if you can take a clobbering from a troll, you have my respect," Thomas answered. "I am ... was ... fairly strong. I don't know if I heal, but I didn't die outright. A mixed blessing, as Roget had me buried alive."

"I wish I knew how to get in touch with Father," Alex frowned. "If he doesn't know what happened to you, he needs to be told."

"I appreciate it. When Father recognized me, he said, 'There are no rules, only consequences,'" Thomas relates. "So Roget can kill any of us if he wants, but killing Lya, for example, might draw different consequences than killing a Son of Tyr."

"And we're not just talking about my fans holding candlelight vigils," Lya jokes before taking a very long drink of beer and sitting back down on the couch next to Orithia.

"I can understand why he approached us, then... I mean what with Alex being a DA and Hitoshi being a big hotel magnet and all. It sounds like he's playing on people's pride... pushing their egos to strive for more power, but secretly he's the one pulling the strings. So yeah... if we could follow the money and see if he's made any donations to political funds, that kind of thing, it might give us a lead to find his latest puppet."

"Also, I was thinking...Thomas, can you tell that we are scions just by looking at us? I don't know if you being a spirit gives you any sort of special powers."

She pauses and chews her bottom lip for a second before continuing her thought, "I was thinking that maybe you could do a little recon for us? I'm sure that Lyman's goons can't see you, but there's always a chance that any scions he's recruited to his side might spot you if you are poking around his home...business...evil lair. But, if you can tell if someone is a scion, it might make it easier for you to avoid detection."

"That is, if you agreed and if we could find out where to point you," she adds.

"It's not as easy as that," Thomas tells you. "I can recognize you as Scions_now._ We're not of this world, and our influence is limited. I think I was able to appear before you, because you've re-opened the case. Our fates are connected somehow.

"Other than that, I seem to be limited to places that were significant to me. The squad room. Family members. Where I died, and that thrice-damned sarcophagus."

"And don't underestimate that bastard. I was ready for an Einjehar, but a troll?"

Hitoshi listens to the conversation, and opens a beer. "Either I will be long dead before you Lya, or I will be avenging you." His voice is soft and contemplative and the words almost an after thought. He couldn't see the man, but that didn't mean Evie's words were untrue. However, he had no clue what to ask, and this perturbed him. The beer just sits in his hand as he stares off into space thinking.

"I'm all for choice C: We're all alive after this and having a hell of a party," Lya replies as she leans against Hitoshi on the couch and smiles.

"So what's the deal with that coffin, anyway? Seems kind of an extravagant way to go... and maybe that's just his thing being a megalomaniac and all... but could it hold some importance to everything? Like... a ritual or something?"

"As I understand it, it kept Father and the other Aesir from learning about my fate for several decades," Thomas tells Evie. "It's possible it's linked to Roget's fate, and I was a sacrifice to delay or redirect it. Only now, it's been unearthed, I've been released, and whatever fate is intended for it will begin to take form again."

"Hmm. That could explain how an eighty year-old investment broker becomes a twenty-something punk," Alex mused. "A rain delay of fifty years, and the game is back on. Only the opposing team has been laying groundwork all that time."

"That's possible. Or he's grown in power and is a demigod," Thomas tells Alex. "If we live long enough, if our legends grow big enough, it can happen to us - well, you - as well."

"What is a troll? I mean, I know all the storybook versions and the D&amp;D types, but...what is a real troll? What's it like? Does it have weaknesses?" Evie asks, just in case Lyman decides to throw one at them.

"Very large, very strong, hits like a Mack truck. Sad to say, I didn't get a good look at the thing before it stove my head in, so I can't tell you if it has any weaknesses," Thomas says. "I remember Roget, of course. And Eleanor Kendall. Don't know where the others were. Kept passing in and out.  
"And then I woke in that damned coffin. Knew they'd buried me alive."

Evie nods, though she is a little disappointed that Thomas doesn't know more about trolls. She had hoped that he knew something and this one just caught him off guard but...oh, well.

"Eleanor Kendall...was she a scion, as well? If so, do you know if she's still around?" Evie asks.

"I had compiled a list of names. I was fairly certain everyone on it was either a Scion or connected to Roget in some manner," Thomas says. "Eleanor was the society maven, the person who knew everyone. What I don't know is whether or not the others are like Roget and have reinvented themselves as younger versions."  
"But I don't know if she or any of the others are still around. I can't even crack open a phone book."

"So I guess we need to follow the money trails on everybody on the list then?" asks Lya. "That kind of investigation sounds like it's more up your alleys," she adds with a nod to Evie and Alex.

"I'm really curious about that coffin, now. I wonder if it's still there to check out? Even if it ends up not directly involving whatever he's doing to bring about Ragnarok, I wouldn't mind taking a sledgehammer to his back-up plan... you know?"

She takes a sip of her beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Besides... it might help provide a little closure or something for our ghost."

"It's still at the University," Thomas says quietly. "The professor, Fisk? He's still upset that he can't perform any tests on it, but he and his research assistant have dug into Nordic lore with remarkable enthusiasm. I think the girl understands something big is unfolding, while Fisk is trying to keep it in a neat little box."

Evie looks at Alex and smiles. It takes him a moment.

"Oh, hey, wait a minute, just hold on a second," Alex says. "Even if I can lift it, you're not suggesting we _steal_ the damned thing, are you?"

"I'll bet his research assistant would help us if it meant she got an invite to the party," Lya offers.

"Besides... I'm eager to see what Alex can do too... especially if he takes his shirt off first," she finishes with a wink.

Alex chuckles, but it strikes you that it's a bit of nervous laughter.

"Okay," he says after a moment. "How do we get in, and where do we take it?"

"Maybe we should scope out the university first? Make contact with the assistant and all. If she wants to investigate this thing too, she might give us the opening we need to get it out of there."

"We need something believable, but something she can't check on easily," Alex says. "A reason it needs to be taken from the University as soon as possible. We can't say we're taking it to the crime lab, because we aren't. You don't own any museums, do you, Hitoshi?"

"You could always fund an exhibit in the lobby of one of your big hotels or something," says Lya as she nudges Hitosi in the ribs. "Didn't the Luxor do something like that with an Egyptian theme once?"

Hitoshi jumps a little when Lya nudges him as he was buried deep in thought.

"Huh? Oh, yea. I would have to check with the rest of the board. We may be able to host a small museum exhibit, but it's not my decision alone. Really you'd have better luck just talking to the assistant for some late night access when no one else is there."

He takes a sip of his beer. "Okay, this is some good stuff. What did you say you had to do to get this again? Anyways, I think the Museum is the best bet. A Theft from the Casino would be a major black mark in the news."

"Hide it in plain sight. Park it on a dais, fill it to overflowing with fake gold coins, look, it's a treasure chest!" Alex says. "Maybe we can convince Fisk or his assistant that this was some Hollywood prop from a B-movie, or some goofy cult."

"Heck, this is Vegas. We can just say it was an old casino prop. Someone along the lines had an idea to do a Norse themed casino but the marketing guy shot it down before it ever came to fruition," she taps the side of her can as she thinks.

"Heck, we might even be able to appropriate it it for just that purpose. I mean, tons of casinos are trying to make their places more family friendly... what with the _How to Train Your Dragon_ movies, vikings could be a good theme."

She takes a sip of her beer, "It wouldn't have flown back in Thomas' day, but now..." Evie shrugs.

"Or there's always stage props for a show," Lya adds. "I mean you saw the production that Necromantix brought with them."

"Little kids birthday show," Toxic replies to Hitoshi's question with a shudder as she cracks open another beer. "The horror...the humanity..."

"Okay," says Alex. "Figure out if we're enlisting the assistant, lying to Fisk, or just snatching the thing out of the blue. I imagine that if I can shove a car, a wooden door isn't going to be much of an obstacle."

"Sounds like a plan then," Lya agrees happily. "So... do we draw sticks as to who gets to go check it out?"

Hitoshi fingers the bat winged ring.

"I think you and I should go Lya. You can charm just about anyone, and I like the wacky band idea. We could say we are setting up a new show at the Casino, and I can in fact have that done. If that dosent work, we just tell the assistant the truth, and one of us shows off. Sometimes the truth is the best policy, and hey, it IS to save the world... right?"

"I agree with Hitoshi. You two are the best suited for this, I think. Alex and I have the list of names that Thomas compiled. We can work on those and tracking down what Lyman is doing with his funds," Evie nods in agreement as she reaches over and grabs a piece of pizza.

As she starts to take a bite, she looks over to Thomas and gives him an apologetic smile, "Uhh...I feel kind of bad about eating in front of you. I know you can't eat and probably aren't hungry, anyway, but it feels terribly rude!"

Thomas' ghost smiles. "I hate pizza. I know, I know ... Italian last name, right? The treat for me as a kid was Nonno making pesto."

"The beer, on the other hand ..."

"It wouldn't surprise me if Lyman isn't hiding his money," Alex said. "After all, an eighty-something broker isn't going to leave his funds to himself in a younger form, right? That's Hollywood."

"Oh, I'm sure he's hiding it. But, there's always a trail to follow. How hard it will be to see that trail just depends on how savvy Lyman is," Evie heaves a sigh. "And, he's Loki's kid. I expect him to be _extremely_ savvy."

"Sadly, I know zip about finances. Well, I can balance my checkbook and all that jazz, but I'm not an accountant. I'm not even certain exactly what I would need to look for if I had access to his books," she takes a bite of pizza and chews thoughtfully. "How are you guys with that sort of thing? If I could get the books, can one of us make sense of it or would we need to find someone trustworthy to help us?"

She smiles at Thomas and chuckles, "Well, we'll do our best to get you into Valhalla. Should be plenty of beer (or mead) there! Not sure about pesto, though..."

"That's okay," Thomas' ghost smiles. He taps the side of his head. (And, oddly enough, his finger doesn't pass through his own head.) "Nonno taught me the recipe."

"Lyman's also a blowhard. He made sure we knew it was _him_ behind all of this," Alex says. "And, Evie, I'm a CPA."

"Sounds good to me, Hitoshi. Just give me a call when you're gonna pick me up and I'll do my best to be my charming self," Lya chuckles as Toxic rolls her eyes. "You know, 'Viking Metal' is a thing these days... and hey, if we actually end up doing a show, that means you guys can wear actual battle dress on stage!"

"I'm not wearing a blasted horned helmet," Orithia replies as Phoebe tosses her another beer.

"That's ok, Orithia, I'll braid your hair for you," Phoebe winks.

* * *

(Monday Morning - Hitoshi and Lya, The Sarcophagus Job)

Callie Warburton greets Hitoshi and Lya with a smile, though she hasn't quite gotten the desired boost from her morning coffee.

"Um. Good morning," she says. "You're the woman who called from the band? About the sarcophagus?"

"That's right," Lya answered.

"I was hoping for more, actually," Callie frowns. "From the sarcophagus, that is. It had all the hallmarks of a mystery, not only because of the body inside, but the inscription and its makeup. But everything's been a dead end.

"Metallurgical assays have been inconclusive. It's iron and nickel, with traces of gold and ... something else. But that makes it of more interest to the Astronomy Department than Archaeology. Also, the carbon dating shows it's less than a century old, so it's not an artifact or a sign that the Vikings made it this far.

"On top of that, Dr. Fisk is ... irritated that it's just sitting there, taking up one of our larger work spaces. We've had to delay other projects, other digs because of it."

"Oooo... so it's like, made from meteor-stuff?" Lya asks excitedly. "This is just perfect, Hitoshi... it'll go great with our song about the Star Child! We can have a set piece and they can get this thing off their hands... it's a win-win situation!"

She turns back to Callie and twists a curl of her hair in her fingers as she smiles at the assistant. "So... was there, like, any cool writing on it or anything else with the coffin? I'm no archaeologist like yourself, but I find stuff about mythology _fascinating..._ "

"Yes, there was an inscription on the lid, a portion of the Poetic Edda," Callie tells you. "It's a fragment of the Voluspa speaking about the end of the world ...

_Brothers will fight and kill each other_  
_Sisters' children will defile kinship._  
_It is harsh in the world, whoredom rife_  
_An axe age, a sword age_  
_Shields are riven_  
_A wind age, a wolf age_  
_Before the world goes headlong_  
_No man will have mercy on another._

"Although, someday, we'll probably find out it was written about someone having a falling-out with their in-laws," Callie adds. "The inscription is one of the odd things about the sarcophagus. The writing appears to be chiseled, but that's inconsistent with what we know about Nordic metalsmithing. The level of detail throughout almost requires the sarcophagus to have been molded or sculpted, but if you heated this in a forge, you'd destroy the natural appearance of meteoric iron.  
"So either there was some technique unknown to this day, or we're looking at a very clever forgery, in which case, it's useless."

"Wicked! Either way it's not much use to you guys taking up space here, right?" Lya winks. "So what do we need to do to take it off your hands?"

"Find something else for Dr. Fisk to obsess over?" Callie winks. "He's upset. He thought this was a significant find, then it turns out to be a crime scene, and now, very likely, a clever forgery."

"I should check with the police first, see if they want to park it in _their_ lab for a week," she says. "Which I doubt. Their crime-scene techs were here on Friday, collecting samples, taking photographs, removing the skeleton. It's not a weapon that needs to be tested, right?"  
"The CSI people left a number for me to call, hold on."

She picks up her smartphone and dials the number on the business card ...

Hitoshi walks around the sarcophagus with his hands behind his back.

"Yea, I think this would work out alright for your idea. Even if it is fake, on stage, no one is gonna realize that with all your antics going on."

He smiles at Callie. "I'm sure ma'am that I could make a contribution to the Museum's fund for your area, maybe buy you some new equipment in exchange for the loan of the Sarcophagus."

"Okay, that's great, Detective. Thank you," Callie says, ending the call. "The Police don't think they'll be needing it, so we can let it go, as long as we know where to contact you if that changes."

"I'm sure you've got a card on you, right, Hitoshi?" Lya asks. "Unless you want to catch my show sometime," she winks.

Hitoshi reaches into the breast pocket of his suit. "Of course I do." He says pulling out a card between two fingers. He sets it on the assistants desk. "So, are we able to pick it up tonight, or do we have to come back tomorrow?"

"I can have it boxed up and waiting for you at the loading dock later this afternoon," Callie tells you. "I'll give you a call when it's ready."

Hitoshi smiles. "Most excellent. What would you say the most needed piece of equipment is in your lab? Sadly, I don't know much about the stuff so I have no idea how much it really is."

He phone rings and he frowns, but that frown turns to a raised eyebrow when he sees who is calling.

"Yes Evie?"

He listens as she explains.

"I do indeed know him. If he is on the board then they are one and the same. However, it's not uncommon for major owners of a corporation to back someone in power, but with what we know, I'd be wrong to assume it to be just another political move. unfortunately I can't look into it right now. Lya and I are picking up that kickass stage prop she wanted."

"Awesome, thanks, Callie!" Lya exclaims with a clap of her hands. "If you learn anything cool about this thing I'd love to hear it...and if you ever want to catch our show, let me know and I can arrange something!" She pulls out a promo photo of her and the Furies and signs it "Thanks for the help! Love, Lya" with her phone number underneath before handing it to Callie.

"It's not so much equipment as overall funding," Callie admits. "We can only fund one or two major excavations per year, and that's mostly domestic. It costs too much to transport a team and all their gear."

"I see, and how much does it cost to fund an expedition? " Hitoshi asks still looking around the lab.

"It depends on how long the expedition is, and how many people are working the site. Anything that lowers the overall costs of transport and support - such as a campsite, if it's really remote - would be of benefit," Callie says. "But now you're making me feel like I'm begging for money."

"Not at all. I asked for the facts Ma'am, and that's what you are giving me. Anyways, I think that's all we need for now unless Lya has anything to add." He looks over at Lya.

"Anything Gal?"

"I think we're good here, Hitoshi," Lya replies before turning back to the assistant. "Once again, I can't thank you enough, Callie. If anything weird or mysterious happens with this thing while it's in our care, I'll be sure to let you know! And hey, if you guys ever need funding help, we can always hold a benefit... least I can do for letting us borrow this stuff."


	17. Shadow Play

(Monday Morning, Outside the Westview - Hitoshi &amp; Lya)

With the sarcophagus obtained, your attention turns to a more practical matter: where to store it. Although it would be amusing, neither you nor Lya have the inclination to actually use it as a set piece. If the damned thing has mystical significance, who knows what it could do in the midst of a performance?  
Also, it's heavy. Alex could lift it, or maybe drag it around. It's not exactly a convenient size.

The limousine jerks to a stop. You hear the driver tap on the horn in a kind of 'hey, pay attention' gesture.

He lowers the partition. "Sorry, Sir, there's a homeless woman blocking the driveway."

You can see the woman just ahead, a wrinkled face under a knit cap that is shading from black to a dirty grey. She is wearing an oversized shirt and sweatpants of a similar grimy hue. Fingerless gloves where the palms are worn through. Dirt under her untrimmed fingernails. Filthy feet stuffed into unlaced tennis shoes.

She's pushing a shopping cart stuffed with bits and pieces. Pieces of cardboard. The Sporting Green from a newspaper. Some trash bags stuffed with scavenged soda cans and water bottles.

And she's in the middle of the driveway, worrying at an ear with one finger.

The driver honks again, and the woman starts, losing her grip on the shopping cart, which begins rolling further down the driveway. It pitches to one side, then upends, spilling the recycling and other belongings. She wails, and waddles over to the cart, fumbling for a moment before righting it. And then she begins picking up her things.

"I think she's going to be a while. If you'll give me a moment, Mr. Ryder, I'll just back up and drop you off at the turnout, then have Security help the … lady … along."

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Nono Will, it will be fine. I'll get out here." He smiles.

"Lya, I'll see you in a bit, I'm going to help this lady with her belongings. She looks like she could use it."

With that said, he grabs his cane and hops out of the car, walking towards the lady.

"Here miss, let me give you a hand with those."

"My bottles!" she snaps at you, waving you off. You catch a rank odor that drifts along in her wake, the sour combination of perspiration, beer, and garlic. "This used to be such a nice place."

She fumbles about, returning to the cart with her arms full of bottles and cans, dumping them into the basket. The sudden addition of weight causes it to shift again, and it almost seems as if there will be a repeat performance of the runaway cart.

The old lady claps her hands three times and bends over the cart ... or was she bowing to it? She mutters something you can't quite make out, then returns to gathering things up. The cart stays in place.

"Thank you," she says as she whisks the lone bottle you'd picked up out of your hands. "You're not like the others."

"Dude it's _your_ limo," Lya laughs as she steps out to join him to talk to the old woman.

"That's quite a bottle collection you've got there," Lya remarks as she glances over the cart and sees various bottles of different ages and quality. "I think I've...hang on a sec..." she starts patting down the pockets of her coat and smiles as she hears the 'clink' of glass and pulls out a beer bottle. "Yup, here we go... I still have a bottle of that rare IPA we were drinking last night and what do you know... I never drank it."

She smiles as she sets the bottle on top of the cart. "My apologies that it's not cold anymore... but I hope it's a welcome addition to the collection."

"Hey Hitoshi, I'm going to gather the girls and make some calls... see if we can find a safe out of the way place to store that thing we picked up. Give you a call later?"

The old woman cackles, and the bottle of IPA disappears into the folds of her voluminous grey coat. "A gift! A gift! Such a nice girl, so kind to Oba Izzy."

The eccentric mirth fades suddenly. And yet, there is a sparkle in the woman's eyes that speaks to her outward appearance being the mask, and the serious mien being closer to her true self.

"Hitoshi, yes, we have things to talk about, Hitoshi and I," she says. She begins pushing her cart down the driveway and into the shadows of the underground garage.  
"Don't dawdle. Oba Izzy doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"You... want me to wait for you?" Lya asks Hitoshi as she gestures to some bus stop benches nearby.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Nah, I think I will be fine. I honestly don't think Loki's gonna take me out of the game just yet, he's having too much fun pissing me off."

He Smiles at Lya, as he leans on his cane, that boyish smile that hides the stress of now being CEO of the Westview grand..

"I liked your idea about fundraising the museum. Talk to the girls about it, see what they say. I'll get back to you on this situation. Have Will take you home. Tell him I said so. "

He twirls his cane. and starts strolling after the old woman. In his mind, he's ready for a fight, and has no idea whats going to happen, but he wasn't about to tell Lya that.

The mouth of the garage seems darker than usual. It can't be the lights, because the garage was upgraded to efficient LED arrays. You know it's not taggers, as Westview groundsmen remove graffiti with the particular attention to detail that marks a top-notch resort.

It's when you hear the crunch of rock grinding against your heels that you pause for a moment. A glance over your shoulder shows the driveway, but it is blurry and indistinct. It might as well be a world away. And instead of the regimented lines and crisp light of LED, you are on the threshold of a dark place, a cave where things are dark ... and darker still.

You've lost sight of 'Oba Izzy,' but you can hear her humming a folk tune that you vaguely recall from your childhood.

The humming stops.

A voice that you barely recognize as that of 'Oba Izzy' hisses out of the shadows.

"Are you afraid, Hitoshi Ryder, Son of Hachiman?" the voice asks.

You have an answer on your lips, of course, but your voice fails you.

"Mmmmm. So close," the voice says. "So very close. You can feel it, can't you? All around you. The darkness. _My_ darkness."

There's a slow, rasping sound that could be something dragging across the rocks, or ... it's the woman's breathing. Taking in the darkness as if it were a delicate perfume.

"Do you fear the darkness, Hitoshi? Or does it call to you?" she says. "So many shadows, so much darkness behind the noble mask. And so, you have caught my attention, little one."

You realize that she has moved to your side. You can feel her presence. Or, rather, smell it. The odor of decay and foulness. The grey coat is revealed to be the tatters of a once-elegant kimono. The obi stained with something dark, a mantle also.

"It is a dangerous path you walk," she warns. "Courage does not come with knowing one wields a lantern. It comes with the willingness to step into the darkness without one."

You feel your divine half rising to the challenge. Your mortal half, on the other hand, is gibbering with a primal fear of shadows, darkness, and death ...

Hitoshi takes a moment to compose himself.

"Honestly, I don't know. I do know that I have an enemy, and he is willing to do anything to get what he wants. I must be willing to do what I have to in order to protect that which I care about."

He pauses for a moment. "My Adversary is constantly trying to drag the war out into the light of public view. The public is not ready to know about such thing, but I know you know that. You are a goddess after all. This means you are here for a reason. Might I surmise it's to make me some sort of offer?"

There is a clicking sound, perhaps Izanagi clucking her tongue at the mention of your enemy, though it is not clear at whom the disapproval is directed.  
"And what would you offer Oba Izanagi?" rasps the goddess. "Choose your next words carefully, Son of Hachiman."

Hitoshi leans on his cane and is silent for a long time before speaking. "The only think I have any right to offer you is my honor, and my life, though I know not what value either of those are in a war that may soon take one or both of them. You are a goddess, so money is no object to you, at least I don't think it is, I may be wrong."

He falls silent, waiting for her response.

Izanagi's eyes flutter as she again takes a slow (but rasping) breath. "Yes. There it is!" she cackles. "You stand in darkness and you face it, unafraid. You feel it, yes. But you must go further ..."

The darkness parts before you, and there is a bowl resting upon a low table. Like everything else in this realm, there is an aura of decay and corruption, but you are no longer entirely certain if this is merely a primal response, an inbred fear of the darkness and the predators lurking in the shadows.

Izanagi pulls the bottle of IPA from her kimono. "Eh. Wrong one."

The IPA disappears, and she produces a flask of sake. She motions for you to take the bowl, closer to a rice bowl than a sake cup. You can barely make out a kanji at the bottom, the symbol of the Void.

She pours a generous amount from the flask. It is not a clear stream of sake, but a roiling darkness. Liquid and smoke at the same time. An acrid smell.  
"Drink," she says.

Hitoshi cracks his neck and picks up the bowl.  
"Now what was that saying about open the mouth and hold the gums..?" He mutters to himself.

"Oh well, what dosent kill you and all that jazz." He says shrugging before downing the dark concoction. He drops the bowl back upon the tables, choking and sputtering for a moment. Bending over with his hands on his knees, he catches his break, and after a moment straightens up.

"Okay, that was... unpleasant. "

The liquid burns in your throat. Not unlike your first taste of scotch, but considerably less pleasant. You are aware that something is changing, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

And then there is a scream from amid the shadows, a scream you've heard far too many times. It is your worst nightmare.

It is Akane.

Tensing, you whirl to demand answers from Izanagi, but she is not there. Nor is the cave. Shadows whirl about, tracing the doors and hallways you had stalked.

You know what comes next.

You are set upon by several assailants. It is the same as before, but different. In this telling, they are not Yakuza foot soldiers, but elusive wisps of shadow. Shinobi out of legend.

But in a moment of self-reflection, you understand that you are not the same, either. The power of a Scion flows through your veins, and Honsho Masamune lay in your hands ...

Hitoshi's head snaps over toward the sound and looks at the shadow men flowing around him. "Get out of my way."

He takes off running, Masamune flashing out left, and right blocking attacks. His only thought is saving Akane. He leaps over one assailant, dodges around another, moving with power that no mortal has. Up ahead he can see the door to the room akane is in, and he plants both feet, pushing off, throwing himself at the door.

The power sings in your body and spirit, the years of harsh discipline coming together with practical knowledge. You understand that you are being tested, not only in martial skill, but in temperment. The Hitoshi that-is-now avoids the mistakes of the Hitoshi that-was-then.

Nothing and no one stands between you and your goal.

You crash through the door, and the room beyond is a stark contrast. Akane is there, just as you remember, but a shining, perfect ideal, the light that sustains you through the darkness.  
There is your enemy, the _boroykudan_ who is heir to the _Kami No Arashi_the Divine Storm, a Yakuza clan.

And, as before, it ends with your foe kneeling before you, spent and begging for mercy.

You know what you _did,_ of course.

"_Sumimasen gomenasai, sumimasen gomenasai,_" he whispers, which is decidedly different from the 'Fuck you, gaijin bastard' that you remember him saying.

And part of you begins to understand. Darkness exists only because the light does. Mercy and vengeance are different sides of the same coin.

Which do you choose, this time? Can you choose differently, you ask yourself.

"This is all a dream, but still, am I different, or am I the same?" Hitoshi mutters, walking around the bastard who killed Akane the last time. he looks down at the man on his knees. Slowly he shakes his head.

"No, the past is the past, and thats where it should stay. I've put this behind me. I won't kill this man again. He's already paid for what he's done."

He looks over at Akane. "It's time to let go Akane. I'll join you at some point, but until then, I've got to do what I must to protect those I can in the here and now. At some point that may mean taking another human life, but that will be a bridge to cross at that time, and it certainly won't be in anger and rage."

The kneeling form of your adversary disappears in a swirl of dark mist. There is no denying that you still feel anger and a sense of loss, but the darkness has no hold over you. You are not bound to it. Akane, too, disappears in a flare of brilliant light that somehow seems entirely fitting. And you realize that she, too, is free from the pain and abuse that had been laden upon her. Some small intimation of _her_ passes through and around you, almost a parting caress.

It is in that moment, of course, that you realize the darkness is not gone. It is there, a part of you, etched upon the walls and floor in the form of your shadow.

The scene fades, and you are back in the cave, the bowl still in your hands, the acrid taste of ... whatever that was still lingering on your tongue. You hear Izanagi's rasping breath from close behind, almost as if she had been reading over your shoulder.

"Touched by the darkness and unafraid to walk within, but not consumed by it," Izanagi says. "I will have need of such champions, when the time comes."

Hitoshi looks down at the bowl then sets it gently on the table, and turns around to face the dark goddess. "Izanagi, I ask of you, What of my father? I admit I was angry with him for the longest time for not saving Akane, and we have not spoken in a good many years."

"The Lord of Nets is ever mindful of the catch," Izanagi says. "You believe it is your anger that has kept you apart; perhaps it is his way of making sure you found your own voice."

She fumbles for something in the folds of her kimono, and then a withered, greyish claw (hand?) stretches forth. "Honsho Masamune. Give it to me."

Hitoshi looks down at his cane, and the sword he knows is contained within. After a moment he places it in the goddess's grasp.

Izanagi cackles. Her hands move with surprising swiftness and dexterity, and your cane is quickly adorned with a sageo. She hands Honsho Masamune back to you.  
"A reminder that the darkness is there, for you to draw upon," she says. "You and I will speak again."

The darkness recedes. You are standing where the driveway becomes the underground garage, and the symbolism - standing half in daylight, half in darkness - does not elude you.

Nor does the fact that something has changed. It is not just the acquisition of power, but a feeling that something within you has been unlocked ...

Hitoshi looks back at the dark garage, then out at the light if day, and the right side of his mouth twitches up in a half smile as his eyes glimmer. Slowly he walks up the ramp heading back towards the entrance that Will was going to drop him and Lya at before he ran into Izanagi.

To your surprise, Will is just swinging the limousine around as Lya waits for him to do so. A glance at your watch tells you barely two minutes have passed since you stepped in - and back out of - the underworld.

Seeing you, of course, Will stops. "Is there something more you need, Mr. Ryder?"

Hitoshi smiles and shakes his head. "Nono Will, everything is just fine. That is unless Lya needs a ride anywhere."

He looks over at Lya and raises an eyebrow in a questioning way.

"Oba Izzy, huh?" Lya chuckles as she walks over to Hitoshi and flashes him the wiki page on her phone describing the Japanese goddess Izanami. "So... spill it... what happened?"

Hitoshi looks up at the sky. "Oh you know, portends of the future, a test of light verses darkness, good versus evil. My place in it all." He pulls out a smoke and lights it up.

"Apparently I passed the test."

Lya snorts as she grabs his cigarette and takes a puff before handing it back. "That's all you need... another deity telling you how awesome you are. Well if you're done with class I need to head over to the Soul Food Cafe for lunch and then make some calls to see if we can store that sarcophagus somewhere."

She scratches her head and then pulls her phone out of her pocket. "I don't know if Rusty is still in business... but he used to run a salvage yard here in Vegas when I ran with the gangs and I might be able to pull a few strings to see if we can store it there. I mean... what better than in plain sight, right? That and it won't be around people in case something _weird_ goes on with it."

The phone rings a few times.

"Henderson Salvage &amp; Storage," a familiar voice growls in answer. "We can take anything you can dish out."

There's a loud _crash_ in the background, followed by an uncomfortable chain-reaction sliding-metal sound.

"Goddamn it, use the forklift!" Rusty shouts. "Sorry. Can I help ya?"

"Rusty, my man... how's the metal hanging?" Lya replies. "It's Lya Bach... you may not remember me, but I'm sure you remember that choice 1969 GTO Judge that somehow ended up in your scrap yard a few years ago... am I right?"

"Hey, Lya," Rusty says. "Sorry to say that ride is long gone. What can I do you for? Need some salvage for a Burning Man piece? DIY house fixer-upper?"

You rather get the idea that 'long gone' means restored, repainted, and fixed up with a new VIN.

"Actually I got something I was hoping you could store out of the way for me," Lya replies as she searches her pockets for a cigarette with her other hand. "I've got this thing we might be using as a set piece, but it's made out of stone and as big as my fridge so it's not exactly going to fit my lifestyle until the show, if you get me." She grins as she pulls a cigarette out and puts it between her lips before she rolls her eyes because she can't find her lighter.

"If you'd be willing to hold onto it for me until we need it I could slip you guys some tickets for the next show, or maybe bring over a bottle of some choice aged bourbon that I've had stashed away for a while now..."

"You know us, Lya. Smash it or stash it, we got you covered," Rusty laughs. "But I'll still take you up on the bourbon. We can have a drink or two. Catch up.*"

"You're a star, Rusty. I'll get the girls to help and we'll bring it and that bourbon over," Lya replies. "Catch you later."

She rolls her eyes as she pulls a lighter out of her cleavage and finally lights her cigarette before walking back over to Hitoshi and the limo. "Good news... looks like I found a place to store the sarcophagus!"

Hitoshi grins. "Great. Now that that's done, shall we go have lunch? I think it's my turn to buy."

"I've got to make the delivery personally... I owe somebody a drink for this if you know what I mean," Lya chuckles. "So if you could drop me off back at Orithia's we'll get the van and take care of the drop-off."

Hitoshi chuckles. "Yes, I know exactly what you mean, and yes, I can drop you off. I'm actually parked in the underground garage I just came from."

He bows. "After you miss."

* * *

(Henderson Salvage - Monday Afternoon / Lya)

It takes some acrobatics to shoehorn the sarcophagus into the van, the weight being less of a concern than its overall size. It's a tight fit that leaves Phoebe sitting on Klepto's lap for the trip over to Rusty's.

The over-sized barn that is the centerpiece of Henderson Salvage and Storage is still there, the name in faded white block letters. But on one side, there are now a set of low buildings, rental storage lockers surrounded by a Cyclone fence. You can see security cameras on the corners of those buildings, as well as several mounted on the light fixtures throughout the junkyard proper.

You are able to drive into the barn, where you can see more changes. The loft has been converted into office space, and there are shelves featuring the sort of 'urban gold' popular with the home-improvement crowd, plus an assortment of 'junk' sculptures made from welded scrap - fountains, marble roller coasters, stylized sculptures.

"Lya!" Rusty's voice booms across the space. "Damn, girl, you look good. And these must be the Furies. Afternoon. Now, you said you needed space to store something? Just so happens, we have a manager's special, five bucks for the first month."

Lya hops out of the van and brandishes a bottle in one hand as she spreads her arms wide. "Rusty! It's been too long... probably because I've gone straight," she jokes.

Orithia looks at Lya with a raised brow as she hops out of the van and the other Furies follow suit.

"You know what I mean..." Lya mutters.

"Love what you've done to the place, Rusty... looks like you guys have been doing well! Must be all those shows about picking and pawning, eh? I've got five bucks and a bottle with your name on it if we can get this hulking thing somewhere secure," she says as she gestures to the sarcophagus sticking out of the back of the van.

"But first... ladies, meet Rusty, the go-to man in Las Vegas whether you need to find something or make it disappear. Rusty, meet Klepto, Phoebe, Orithia and Toxic, the talented ladies of my band and my best friends."

"Mi casa es su casa!" Rusty smiles broadly. He ambles over to the van with a slight limp. He runs his hand across the lid of the sarcophagus. "And what, exactly, is this, apart from a big metal box that looks like a coffin out of some _Dark Shadows_ ripoff?"

"You're not that far off, actually," Lya chuckles. "We've got this baby on loan from a bunch of dusty professors so we can use it as a set piece for this concert we've got coming up... but damn if we can't find a place to keep it in the meantime."

"Got you covered. Let's get this baby tucked away, and then we can visit for a few," Rusty tells you. He handles everything personally, overseeing loading the sarcophagus onto a fork lift and moving it out to the yard. The locker is covered by no less than two security cameras.

Back at the barn, you take an elevator up to the office level. Rusty's office is more like the Rusty you remember, a bit disheveled with a patina of use and an air of reliability. The furnishings are an odd mix of antique and re-purposed items.

"Pull up a chair," he says, settling down at his desk. He pulls a drawer out and props his foot up on it. "So, what's the real story behind the box?"

Lya grabs two coffee mugs and starts opening the bottle of Elijah Craig 21-Year-Old Single Barrel she brought with her. "Trust me, Rusty... you're going to want a drink first."

She pours two cups and hands one to Rusty before grabbing a chair and turning it around so she can rest her elbows on the back of it when she sits down. "To old friends... and better times," she mutters before raising her glass and taking a big sip of it.

She then runs a hand through her hair and sighs. "OK... what would you think if I told you that sarcophagus belonged to a rich megalomaniac who thinks he's the prophet for the end times, and me and some friends took it from him in the hopes that we could stop his plans of royally fucking up the party for everyone?"

"Whatever happens in Vegas," he laughs, then falls silent for a long moment.

"Prophets. End times," he snorts. "Purging fire, God's wrath, blah, blah, blah. It ain't that I got it all figured out, Lya, or that I don't believe things are gonna end."

"Humans are a wasteful, messy lot when it comes to it," he says, jerking a thumb in the general direction of the junk yard. "This rich megalomaniac have a name?"

"Get this... his name is _Lyman._ I mean come on... it's like these days people need them to wear a sign that says 'Scam Artist' on it because they don't understand subtlety anymore."

She takes another drink and breathes out satisfyingly. "Mmmn... that's good stuff."

"I get that times are bad, Rusty... I really do... but there isn't any great Restart Button in the sky that's going to make things better the next time around when people are still going to be people, know what I mean? This is our world, for better or worse... I'm just trying to remind people that it's not too late to do something to make it better."

"Name of the game. One man's junk and all that," Rusty says. "This Lyman character, is this gonna be a _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ thing, with the bad guys trying to steal it back?"

"I gather the professor types don't know anything about it? Maybe this is why you thought of me, Lya. The king of recycle, reuse, and re-invent. We can take it out to the furnace and melt it down, even. Make something useful out of it."

"Hard to say, honestly," Lya sighs. "The professors have no idea what it's about, and we know this guy used it in the past... but whether it's going to be important to him or us in the future we don't know." She takes another drink and chuckles. "I'm all for destroying it, myself... there's a lot of bad mojo with that hunk of junk. Best to make sure first, though."

She pulls a cigarette out of her coat and lights it before offering one to Rusty. "If a bunch of rich types start asking questions, though... don't trust them. This Lyman has his fingers in all sorts of pies from the cops to the lawyers."

"If the professor types don't know, who does?" Rusty asks. "I doubt that it'd be useful for both bringing the end of the world about _stopping_ it. At the same time, this probably ain't like _Lord of the Rings,_ and chucking it in the fire isn't gonna stop 'em. Slow 'em down a bit, maybe."

He takes the offered cigarette.

"How'd you get caught up in this, anyway? I mean, you've always had a knack for dancing in the storm, girl, but this seems a little ... comic bookish for you. What's next, a visit from Phil Coulson?"

"That would be a lot cooler than the stuff I _have_ seen," Lya chuckles. "Let's just say that I finally met my Dad... and he's got issues he expects his kids to take care of." Lys sighs. "I'd tell you more, Rusty... but if the shit _does_ hit the fan, I'd prefer if you were able to keep out of it and plead the 5th, ya know?"

"You what they say about friends," Rusty says. "A friend will bail you out of jail, while a _real_ friend is sitting next to you saying, 'Man, we fucked up.'"

"Anyway, I gotcha. Family can be rough, sometimes," he adds. "The thing's locked up. Here's the key; the master's right here."

Rusty points at a medicine cabinet hanging on the wall, the glass cracked and pitted. He flips it open to show a tri-fold pegboard holding a series of keys, then closes everything up.

"You ever want to shoot a music video, we got the room," he smiles. "Thanks for the juice."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lya replies with a smile as she pockets the key and shakes his hand. "Enjoy the rest of the bottle on me, Rusty... and take care of yourself. Hopefully the next time we share a drink it will be because of better circumstances."

He raises his mug. "It's just like a flash flood, girl. Boom, comes out of nowhere, makes a big mess, and then ... blue skies. You take care of yourself."

* * *

(Monday Afternoon - Westview Grand / Hitoshi)

After dropping Lya off, you return to the Westview and your office suite via a private elevator. Security monitors show your executive secretary at her desk, while you can see Mika working in an adjacent office.

A precise-looking Japanese gentleman is seated in the waiting area, a slim portfolio in his hands.

Hitoshi studies the monitors for a moment then pushes a button on his desk. "Mika, could you come in here a moment please?"

It isn't long before Mika enters your office.

"Yes, Hitoshi?" she asks.

"The man in the waiting area, do you know who he is?" Hitoshi asks, one hand on his chin while the other one spins the monitor around for her to look at.

"That is Masaru Matsudaira," she says. "He was our guide during our fact-finding visit, and he is Toshiro Kimura's executive assistant. If Pacific Rim is a front for a Yakuza clan, I would also imagine that he is Kimura-san's second-in-command there, as well."

Hitoshi scratches his chin.

"I see. Thank you Mika. Please see what else you can dig up on him. I want to be armed with as much knowledge as I possibly can."

With that said, Hitoshi waits until Mika leaves, and then presses another button.

"Vanessa, I am back, please show our guest in."

He straightens a couple items on his desk that he thinks is out of place then stands beside his char waiting for the man to walk in.

Vanessa shows your guest in shortly thereafter.

"Good Afternoon, Ryder-san," he says, bowing. He presents his business card. "I am Masaru Matsudaira, executive assistant to Toshiro Kimura. I have a draft of the memorandum of agreement pertaining to the merger between the Westview Group and Pacific Rim."

The document is standard business practice, setting forth the terms under which the merger is to be negotiated, and under which the involved parties may withdraw.

Hitoshi returns the bow. "Matsudaira-san, welcome to my Casino. I apologize, but was uninformed of your visit. Clearly someone in my establishment has some explaining to do. However, since you are here now, would you care for some refreshments?"

He takes the document and sets it on his desk after glance over it for a second, deciding to observe Japanese custom first rather than get down to business.

"An apology is unnecessary, Ryder-san," he answers. "It was felt that this aspect of the merger should be handled face-to-face, rather than through an e-mail or phone call."

He bows again as you offer refreshment. "Thank you. That is most considerate of you."

Hitoshi pushes a button on his desk. "Vanessa, could you brings us..." He turns toward Matsudaira. 'What would like?"

"Tea would be welcome," Matsudaira smiles. "Domo. Kimura-san is not anticipating any complications with the merger, but we nonetheless wish to proceed with a measure of caution. It is new territory for us."

Hitoshi nods. "Vanessa, two Oolong Tea's, Hot. Put some surga, lemon, and milk on the side please."

He releases the button, and motions for the other man to sit down. "So, where will you be staying, and how long, and if it's not with us, allow me to remedy that situation quickly."

"Such generosity is not necessary, Ryder-san," Matsudaira tells you. "Kimura-san has property in Las Vegas, and I am staying there. You have my card, and that includes numbers for my office in Japan, and a domestic number for America. If I am abroad, the call is handled by an answering service."

"Are we on schedule?"

"Yes," Lyman told his colleague. "How's the Congressional seat feel?"

"Rather like that damned rope," Wolf said harshly. "Uncomfortable."

"Do you want me to save the Son of Tyr for you?"

"I believe my daughter has plans for him," came the answer. The vivid image of fangs and the rending, tearing sound that came to Jason Lyman's mind had little to do with his colleague in Washington. Of Wolf's daughters, there was no doubt in Lyman's mind that 'Soleil Hunter' was the more vicious of the two. And that was with both of them being restrained by their 'mortal' identities.

"Inaugural dinner?" asked Miranda.

"Let's use the Westview, again," Bob Malcolm suggested. "Make things easier on the security detail. Governor, Senators, other members of Congress – well, at least my Republican colleagues. Colonel Ellison. House Speaker Montgomery. Might as well be nice to the man before I take his job and push him down the Capitol steps."

"The President, even though he's likely to decline?"

"Mmph," Malcolm gave a grudging assent. He didn't particularly like the sitting Chief Executive and had sparred frequently with the one-time Congressman from Virginia. But a veneer of civility was a political necessity, as they often were in attendance at the same events.

"It took slightly longer than I thought," James told Hitoshi, "But we have an agreement. The legal team will present copies to all of the board members and observe a reasonable period for comment, then draft a Memorandum of Agreement that puts the terms into effect while the clerical end is handled – printing, translation, proofreading, signatures, the like."

He reached into his briefcase. "Your copy, Hitoshi. And the Japanese translation."

Hitoshi takes the documents. "Thanks James. Anything come from looking into Pac Rim?"

He leans back in his chair and sips on his tea as he looks over the documentation.

"There is no doubt in my mind that they are a Yakuza clan, though I do not know which one," Sokatsu says. "Their books, of course, are clean and would pass examination at most levels. We've gone beyond that. There is only so much one can do to hide those expenditures that cannot be made public. Generous expense accounts and quarterly bonuses are ... more Western than the traditional Japanese business model."

"However, their hands are clean in regards to activities that would cause problems for the Westview Group. There are indications that Pacific Rim has exerted pressure through protection rackets and influence peddling, but they have no involvement in drugs or human trafficking of any form.

James pauses.

"The question for you is this: Pacific Rim could easily have acquired other assets within Japan. Seeking a merger with Westview is not necessary for their financial health or corporate well-being. It is being done for a specific reason, and, short of calling Chairman Kimura, I am at a loss to discern what that reason may be."

"Huh." Hitoshi takes a sip of his tea again.

"Well I guess we are going through with it then. We will have to see what the reasons Pac Rim chose us as they come along then. What day is the meeting set for to sign?"

"Figure on a week for the other board members to review the language or simply agree with the summary of our legal team," James says. "A vote as a mere formality. The only required signatures are those of yourself and Chairman Kimura, so we can easily close this out before Christmas and without inconveniencing anyone on the Board of Directors that may have holiday travel plans."

"Sounds like a plan." Hitoshi says standing up. He sets his tea down and holds out his hand.

"Thanks James, I think with your help things are going well. We should meet for lunch some time, My treat of course."

"Thank you, Hitoshi. At least the negotiations are here in Vegas, rather than in Tokyo," James smiles. "I will keep you informed about any feedback from the board. I expect Mason to relay any criticism or comments through one of his supporters, rather than talk to you or I."

Hitoshi snorts.

"Yes, well Mason will need to learn to come to me with any concerns despite him not liking me. I'm not going have any of his childish behavior such as not talking to me. Either he comes to me, or I'll simply leave him out of the equation. We only need a two thirds vote to pass anything on the board agenda. The sooner he realizes this, the better. If his childish antics hurt this company, I'll find a way to cut him loose."

He leans against his desk. "Speaking of that James, find a way that can be done and ready the paperwork. I want it as an ace in the hole should he get stupid."

"I will begin by looking at his allies on the board," Sokatsu says. "Weakest link, and all that. Also, with that in mind, and with the merger on the table, I conducted a review of your assets for financial and security vulnerabilities. Absent your dancing naked in the fountain at the Bellagio, there are no concerns."

"I suspect, however, that Mason will be looking to acquire allies, both on the board and in the financial sector."

James looks at you directly, and you understand the implication that simply removing Mason from the board may not be enough to prevent him from being a thorn in your side, but James is mindful enough not to say such in plain speech.

Hitoshi sighs. "James, we've known each other long enough for you to be able to be forward with me, I know that look. What's your worry?"

"Gregory Mason has sufficient resources to be an irritant whether or not he is seated on the board of directors," he says after a moment's consideration. "I would counsel you that any effort to unseat him should also be concerned with limiting whatever damage he might do from the outside."

Hitoshi nods. "And this is why I keep you around. You see things that I might not always see. Lets find out how much outside influence he has, I want damage limited as much as possible. This is of course IF We have to unseat him."

James laughs. "Hitoshi-san, in my estimation, it is not _if,_ but _when._ As I mentioned earlier, your financial house is in order, and there are no security vulnerabilities in Westview's infrastructure. Not to mention which, you are poised to acquire additional resources from Pacific Rim. They have their own cybersecurity department, and I imagine they will regard any hostile intent directed at Westview to be a threat to their own principals."

"Well that could always be a plus." Hitoshi says grinning.

"Well James, I'm thinking if Lunch, would you care to join me? I know this amazing greasy spoon of a diner that has amazing strawberry shakes and Burgers piled high with everything."

He closes down the desk computer, watching as the single monitor slides back into the desktop. "Vanessa, I am headed out to lunch, I shall be back in about an hour and a half," he declares over the intercom.

He pauses, and then pushes the other button. "Miko, I am headed out to lunch, care to join me?""

"Of course, Hitoshi," Mika answers. "Are we dining at the Westview, or do I need to call ahead somewhere else and have the car brought around?"

"I'll be driving my own car. You and James can ride with me."

The drive to the Soul Food Diner is routine.

"Oho," James laughed. "This is not what I would call a greasy spoon."

"I've never been here," Mika admitted. "You're being followed."

James laughed and nodded as if the group were sharing a joke. "Yes. I saw the car a few blocks back. I didn't get a glimpse of the driver or any passengers, though."

Hitoshi's eyes flicked to the rear view mirror, but that's all that happened as he pulled into the parking lot.

"Huh. Well I missed them. Mika, who do you think they are?" He parks the car and gets out like nothing is going on, and holds the door for James to get out of the Back seat. Mika, got to ride up front.

"Yea, this place is great guys, Best food in town, though eventually it might kill you due to clogged arteries, but hey, live fast, die young, leave a damn good looking corpse, am I right?" He pulls out his cane and uses it t lean on while the others get out.

"They're not complete novices," Mika says. "They didn't follow too close. I noticed them when they rushed through a yellow light. I suppose it could be someone hired by Greg Mason, but they're keeping their distance, so it's a watch-and-report job."

At first glance, the menu at the Soul Food Diner appears to be traditional diner grub. Around the clock breakfast, burgers, sandwiches, and a soup that's probably been re-warmed three times too many. But a look at the 'Today's Special' card clipped to the inside of every menu proves otherwise, with gourmet offerings that include Southern favorites such as shrimp etoufee and honest-to-goodness Kobe steaks.

"Kobe beef?" Mika says, glancing around the diner as if to re-assess her surroundings.

"The Kobe burger isn't named after the basketball player," Hitoshi grins.

"Speaking of deceptive appearances, could our friends be part of Pacific Rim?" James asks casually.

"That would be a bit creepy," Mika says. "Though I imagine Hitoshi suddenly sprouting a protective detail might give Gregory pause."

Mika's words give Hitoshi a reason to pause. "You mean If it is Pac Rim's people, they may be protecting me?"

He looks sideways up at the ceiling out of the corner of his left eye as he rubs his chin. "Mika, after we eat, I think we need to lead them on a merry chase and into a trap. I'd like to talk with them... at blade point if necessary. James, how good at you at being a rabbit?"

"The merger agreement is not yet signed," Mika points out. "So there is no value in staging an accident, fatal or otherwise."

"A rabbit?" asks James. "As in, you appear to give me instructions or a package, and I leave to take it somewhere, and as they follow me, you follow them ... or are waiting for them at a place of our choosing?"

"Well given you are former military, I figured you might be able to lose or confuse our friends there and put us in a position to surprise them," Hitoshi smiles. "Yes, this means you will get to drive my car, and I know you've wanted to for a while." His smile changes to a grin.

"Then back to the Westview and I leave again, to see if they follow?" asks James. "Do you want me to take them somewhere, or just drive around town to make a point?"

"No, I want to put them where they can't get away so we can have a nice chat. You know of any places around town that would fit that bill?" Hitoshi says. He shuts up as Maggie comes over to take their orders.

"I'll have the usual Maggs."

There's a moment where you wish you had a video camera, as James and Mika exchange a look, a combination between 'you first' and not entirely wanting to admit that, yes, they _do_ know of such a place.

"There are a few construction sites and/or warehouses that should suit your needs," is all James says. "But, having said that, once your guests have been detained, I cannot be involved."

And, for the first time in your memory, you see something other than the efficient agent/second you have known for so many years. There's a flicker, the merest ghost of old pain.

"I understand where you are coming from James, and this time, all I want to do is actually talk. No torture, or anything like that. I just don't want them to easily be able to rabbit on us is all. I wouldn't put you in that position, I've been there myself, know what it is like." Hitoshi replies.

James scribbles an address on a napkin. It's a warehouse on the industrial end of town, near the airport, but relatively isolated. It's the kind of place favored by fictionalized Mafia thugs and secret armies ... and thus dismissed as the domain of conspiracy theorists.

"Anything else?"

"Only to eat, then get them to follow us. After we have them there, you can leave should you need to. I'm not going to make you stay James." Hitoshi replies smiling.

"I suggest that we stop briefly at the Westview," said James. "This is a two- or three- car job, with you and Mika trailing to make sure they don't have friends."

Hitoshi nods. "Alright then, let's eat up."

Their meal concluded, Hitoshi drove back to the Westview and into the garage, a floor reserved for casino employees and the Board of Directors. Quickly, Hitoshi got out of the car, doffed his jacket, and tossed his car keys to James.

"Not a scratch, now," he winked.

"Trust me," James said with an exaggerated smile.

He put on Hitoshi's coat, donned the sunglasses that had been sitting in the dashboard well, and pulled up to the exit ramp, waiting for them.

In the meantime, Mika had gone to her own car, an Acura RSX Type-R. Hitoshi could tell from the sound of the engine that she'd had work done on it.

"Who did the work?" he asked.

"Ex-boyfriend," Mika said. "I switched back to regular tires before driving here from the Bay Area. Parts of Interstate 80 are nothing but potholes."

She took a moment to tie her hair back, then wrapped a scarf around her head. There was a baseball cap sitting on the mid-body arm. Mika would be able to change her appearance several times over the course of their drive.

"Seatbelt, please," she said. "Just in case."

James left first. A moment later, Hitoshi's bluetooth earbud pinged.  
"Same car," James said. "Four men."

Hitoshi looked at Mika, who nodded.

"We have them," he said. "When you hit South Vegas, try and lose them. Nothing too serious."

The maneuvers weren't so much so that James could lose the tail as to shake loose any backup vehicles that might be in play.

"Okay, here we go," James said. He sped up slightly, made several turns that doubled back on his path. It was a convincing performance of someone who had been taught how to lose a tail, but didn't quite know what to look for in the first place. "They fell back. There. Still with me."

"No backup," Mika said. "Reel 'em in."

James proceeded to the address he'd given Hitoshi. The warehouse was protected with a key box, and James punched in the access code. He pulled the warehouse door open, and drove inside.

The warehouse/hangar was dark enough that all you could see from the outside was a shadow. James got out of the car and leaned against the hood, making a show of waiting for someone. Checking his watch. Miming a phone call.

Mika sped forward and stopped at an angle to the watchers' car. Hitoshi was already in motion, springing out of the vehicle and whipping Honsho up against the driver's neck.

"Konichiwa," he said. "Let's take this out of public view. Your buddies get out of the car and walk inside the warehouse. You drive the car in after them. Don't be stupid."

Hitoshi watches as the man drives the car inside and gets out of the car.

"Okay, everyone into the office." He escorts them inside at sword point and looks around at the abandoned couches and chairs.

"Sit. Please." His gaze flickers over the men as he notes they are all Japanese.

"James, you may leave now should you wish. Leave my car back at the Casino. Thank you for the help."

The quartet of watchers do as they are instructed, each bowing to you before they take a seat.  
"I ... will wait outside," James says, letting you know that he is available for backup.

"Hitoshi-san, I apologize for the insult," says the driver.

Hitoshi laughs. "Insult? Fuck man, I missed you, Mika and James are the ones that picked you up behind us. No insult taken, you're good. Still, it begs the question, WHY are you following me?"

"We are with Pacific Rim's executive security branch," he explains. "Kimura-san asked that we extend our protection to you, as well. We understand that American executives are not accustomed to such practices, and that you have two observant and capable people in your employ explains why."

"Huh. Is that so? Well that explains that then."

He pulls out and lights up a smoke, holding the pack out to the men, and then to Mika.

"So, what exactly are your orders? I ask this because I'm dealing with some weird shit right now."

"Primarily to observe," the driver tells you, "although we are authorized to use force if it is necessary to protect our principal. You. Does this 'weird shit' pose a threat to your well-being?"

Hitoshi shrugs. "Some stupid street gang has it out for me and my friends. You kick one gang out of a diner because they are starting shit, and suddenly they keep trying to ruin your day. These guys really are too stupid for their own good. As of yet, it hasn't been anything I couldn't handle."

He takes a long drag and lets the smoke trickle from the side of his mouth. He wasn't about to tell these guys the full story, but if they were there to protect him, then they had a right to be warned... somewhat.

"_Boryokudan,_" says one of the protective detail. There is laughter, and it is not the kind of laughter born of overconfidence, but of seasoned professionals. There are no boasts, no flashing of weapons, just that corner-of-the-eyes smile. Your sensei would occasionally wear the same expression, and it was usually evident just before he cleaned the dojo floor with a student.

"It is entirely up to you, Hitoshi-san, how visible you wish us to be," the driver tells you.

* 'Boryokudan' are young gang members, often motorcycle riders, who trash shops and otherwise threaten violence against merchants and residents.

Hitoshi shrugs. "I don't care what you do, just know that if you follow me, you might end up in over your head, and I might Call you up to help out in situations. If I am going to have you then I am certainly going to use you if need be."

He pulls out his cellphone and tosses it to the man talking. "Contact number if you please."

The driver enters the number and his name, but also presents his business card in traditional fashion as he returns your phone.

"We are available 24/7," he says. "Even for situations which may be 'over our heads.' This is not about our comfort, Hitoshi-san. It is about your personal safety."

Hitoshi accepts both the phone and business card with a bow.

"Very well then. Know that I will use you. I believe this meeting is finished. Tell your boss that coming to me directly and explaining the situation would have negated the need for this meeting in the first place."

"Kimura-san has his reasons," the driver answers. "Arigato, Hitoshi-san."

Hitoshi bows back and walks to the car. "Mika, we are done here."

He stops next to James. "Huh. Apparently Pac Rim wants to protect it's new asset. I have Bodyguards." He claps James on the shoulder.

"Anyways man, Thanks for the Help. I owe you one."


	18. The Unusual Suspects

(Meanwhile ...)

"… we'll use the full ballroom. There will be our own security personnel in addition to those provided by the Westview," explained the Senator's executive assistant. "A suite for Congressman Malcolm, of course, with secure wi-fi and reservations at the President's Club for dinner. Also, is it possible to arrange a private poker game for the Congressman and his guests?"

"We can provide everything you need," Karen Ryder assured them. "Including a private table and dealer. Would you prefer that be in the suite, or in the Diamond Lounge?"

"The suite, please."

The security measures were the most particular: from a cordoned-off space for Malcolm's limousine, a chase car, two Nevada State Trooper cruisers, and six motorcycles, there would be a secure route from the garage to all locations the Senator could be expected to visit. All of which made sense, as Malcolm, a Republican incumbent working on his fifth term, was expected to become Speaker of the House. A former Air Force officer, Malcolm supported the military as well as having played a key role in bringing corporate dollars to the state. He had a reputation for hammering out deals, sometimes over the poker table.

Rumors of an affair with Miranda Blum, his 'body person,' were none of her business, Ryder figured.

"We look forward to having the Congressman celebrate his re-election with us," she smiled.

The rumors were true, of course. Not that Bob Malcolm gave a flying fuck what the self-righteous pricks in the media happened to think about his marriage. Besides, Julia had understood from the start that this was about politics, not romance.

"Guest list?" he asked Miranda.

"Supporters at all levels have been invited to the election night festivities," she said. "There's tonight's $2500-a-plate fundraiser, of course."

"Election night, call Colonel Ellison, invite him to the poker game. And make sure Doug Maxwell and Greg Mason get invited. Mason's the Westview's CEO, after all."

"Was," Miranda told him. "He's still on the Board of Directors, of course, but a … Hitoshi Ryder bought out John Jennings. He's the new CEO."

"Our kind of people?" Malcolm asked.

"He's a difficult read," she said. "We'll look into his history, of course. It seems he made his fortune through careful investments, all handled by an agent."

"Let's not tweak Greg's nose too hard. Finish the research, and see if Ryder wants something from Washington that we can offer to expedite."

By week's end, Malcolm had determined that Ryder, despite his fiscal savvy, was too much of a maverick to place long-term bets on. Certainly, Greg Mason didn't hold the younger man in high esteem, and Mason was a solid Malcolm-for-Nevada backer. Still, leveraging Ryder's support would be beneficial in several key demographics.

"The merger talks are proceeding as expected," Sokatsu told Hitoshi. "Although the upcoming elections aren't likely to produce any major upheavals in Washington, it's clear that our colleagues at Pacific Rim view the present economic circumstances and business climate as favorable."

"Any other concerns?"

"Not really. The merger is essentially an opportunity for Pacific Rim to access American markets more effectively. We'll benefit from the partnership and are positioned favorably against undue loss," James said.

"There is one concern I have," Hitoshi admitted. "There are … rumors that Pacific Rim is connected to the Yakuza. Can we look into that?"

"Mason's people didn't find anything, but I'll have my accountants look over the numbers a second time," James assured him. "If there are Yakuza connections, they're very well hidden."

It occurred to Hitoshi that the merger was fortuitous in regards to something else, namely, his visit from 'Aunt Izzy.' If this particular clan was beholden to or manipulated by the goddess, withdrawing from the merger might cause problems on an entirely different front …

Toshiro Kimura, his head bound in a white hachimaki, laid an offering at the small altar. He struck a small gong, clapping three times to call the attention of the spirits, in particular, the goddess Izanami, the nominal patron of the _Miezaru Te Ryu,_ the Invisible Hand. Although he dutifully made offerings to her, Kimura could not say whether or not the goddess actually heard his prayers. Still, out of all the kami, it made sense for the clan to seek the blessings of the Lady of Shadows.

His devotions complete, he slid a set of shoji back into place before Izanami's shrine, so that her statue – a cloaked and hooded figure – peered out into the room, rather than remain in full view.

"Kimura-san?"

"What is it, Matsudaira?"

"Our legal team believes we will have an agreement on the table before the American Thanksgiving holiday," he told his superior. "There is a concern."

"Explain."

"Ryder-san is responsible for the death of Daisuke Yakamura."

"Ah," Kimura said. The revelation made sense of the untimely death of a rival Oyabun's eldest son. It hadn't been a motorcycle accident, as was claimed. There would doubtless be more to the story.

"Learn as much as you can without being _too_ curious."

"Hai."

Isao Muramasa studied the photos, taken only a few weeks ago. There was no doubt the woman shown was his daughter, Mika. She was using her mother's maiden name. Muramasa cared little about his daughter; she had proven willful and disobedient. The family was better off with her pursuing an education and career in America, though he knew Mika's defection had only been possible through his wife's indulgence.

But Mika had been seen traveling to the estate of Toshiro Kimura, who, while not a direct competitor, was nonetheless a business rival. And even pawns were of value in a chess game between grandmasters.

[Election Night]

The Las Vegas Hilton was election headquarters for the combined re-election efforts of the Mayor, Sheriff, and District Attorney. There were brief appearances from the candidates as the polls closed and absentee votes started to trickle in, and favorably so. But then the candidates retreated to their suites, where they could watch the ongoing news coverage. Orders were placed with Room Service, to be expedited by an agreement with the Concierge.

"Seven-point lead out of the gate," one attorney said. "Harris will concede by eight-thirty."  
"Nine," said another, slapping a twenty on the coffee table.

"All the way to the wall," laughed a third, tossing his money into the pot. "Alex, what's your take?"

"Ten," Alex said, matching the $20 ante. "Just in time for the late news. But if Goddard concedes, the mayoral race will be the lead."

"Pretty savvy for someone who doesn't like news conferences," Soleil Hunter smiled.

"I dislike them because it's not about what you say, it's about what the media hears," Alex said. "Everyone will lead their newscast with a shot of the Mayor, the Sheriff, and Chris all doing the hands-raised-in-victory thing. "

"Nine-thirty," Soleil said.

Early coverage, however, was focused on Alex, with stations' political reporters offering opinions about Alex's reputation for being a maverick, and how that would play in Clemens' law-and-order shop.

"_Those cases weren't me 'bucking the system' - those cases were about seeing justice done. That's what we're here for._"

_"District Attorney Clemens and I had some privileged discussions on that, so all I'll say is that we have a better understanding as to where each of us stands."_

"Damn. You'd think Chris and I had agreed to a prize fight at Caesar's," Alex frowned.

"We'll put you up front. Give Chris a high-five or handshake after his victory speech," Soleil said.

"Handshake," Alex said. "A high-five will look awkward and make it seem like we're not taking things seriously."

"Good point," Chris nodded.

Alex didn't voice his fear that being on the podium also made him an easy target. It had occurred to him that Tyr losing his right hand could easily be a figure of speech describing a person or agent. Why not both? A shot to the heart might not kill him, but he wasn't sure about a bullet through his head. It all depended on what Soleil Hunter's game was – 'expose' him as a Scion, or eliminate him outright.

The phone rang just before ten.

"District Attorney Clemens' suite," answered one of the other prosecutors. "Hold on, please."

He waved at Chris and Soleil, mouthing _Harris._

Chris took the phone. "Evening, Tony. Okay, let me put you on speaker phone."

"Chris, I wanted to congratulate you and your people on a top-notch campaign, and wish you nothing but success," Harris told his rival. "As of 10PM, I'm conceding the race. You've got your second term as District Attorney."

A cheer went up throughout the room, and Soleil hugged Clemens.

"Thank you, Tony," Chris said. "I'll make my appearance at ten-thirty. Good night."

"Good night, Chris."

There was more cheering as the line went dead, with lots of back-slapping. Soleil pulled Chris aside and gave him a kiss that left him breathless.

"Ten on the dot," said the attorney who'd started the pool. "Alex wins the pool!"

Alex handed the money to Clemens. "Here. Take Soleil out to dinner."

Clemens nodded his thanks. "I will."

At the end of the evening, it would be a clean sweep for the incumbents, with Alex's predicted hands-raised-in-victory moment leading the evening newscasts. The visible handshake between Alex and the District Attorney also made the news, without any obvious play from Lyman's side.

* * *

[Charles Cooper]

"Got one for you, Alex," Chris Clemens said. "Juvenile, repeat offender, was the getaway driver on an armed robbery. Jewelry store. We're trying him as an adult."

"I saw that on the news. Other kid died?"

"That's right, with two more accomplices getting away on foot," Chris told him. "Junior's looking at two accessory charges."

"Injured store clerk, dead partner, grand theft," Alex began tallying factors. "You said he's a repeat offender. Dossier?"

Clemens indicated it was in the stack of folders; Alex cracked the file open.

"Shoplifting, truancy, tagging," Alex noted. "Nothing serious until now. Who's handling his defense?"

"Public defender. They know they don't have a defense," Clemens said. "Word is their client isn't saying a thing."

"Have we talked to him at all?"

"I don't see the point, Alex. We're not going for a plea bargain on this."

"Come on in, Mrs. Cooper," said Jeff Hamlyn. "This is Alex North from the District Attorney's office."  
"Why are you doing this?" Deb railed at Alex.

"Mrs. Cooper, I'm here to explore your son's options," Alex assured her. "I understand Charles hasn't been forthcoming with details on his part in this incident. I've reviewed his record, and I share your discomfort with the notion of trying him as an adult."

"The District Attorney and that other prosecutor, the woman, they've been all over the news telling people what a monster Charles is, and what a horrible parent I am!" Deb shot back.

"My boss approaches his job from the perspective of law and order," Alex said. "I am more concerned that justice is done, but for this to happen, I'll need Charles' cooperation."

"What do you mean?" asked Deb.

"I'm willing to look for a solution other than sending Charles to jail for twenty years," Alex said. "Charles?"

"Yeah?"

"First of all, you're not obligated to answer any of my questions. Mr. Hamlyn is here to make sure we respect your rights, and your mother is here to observe," Alex told him. "So, your parents divorced and your mother was given custody, correct?"

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Pretty shitty, actually. Dad wasn't perfect, but I kinda hoped he and Mom would have worked things out. The divorce thing, kind of pulled the rug out from under me. We weren't rich to begin with, and Mom had to pick up a second job just to make ends meet."

"Charles, I'm sorry," Deb told her son.

"Don't start, Mom. Just don't."

"How long have you been hanging out with the others involved in the robbery?" Alex asked.

"About a year, maybe. Met at a sideshow, showed 'em how to do some pretty tight donuts. Guys realized I can drive."

"So they asked you to take the wheel on something they had going?"

Charles looked at Hamlyn.

"Go ahead and answer," the Public Defender said.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Did you have any part in deciding which store to rob?"

"No."

"Did you have any part in deciding how the theft was to be carried out?"

"No. I mean, I know it was supposed to be a smash-and-grab, but I didn't plan it."

"Were you aware the others were carrying guns?"

"No."

"Would you be willing to name the principals – the people who did do the planning, and the others involved in the actual heist – for consideration from the DA's office?" Alex asked.

"What's that mean?" Charles asked. "I rat out my friends, and I get immunity?"

"We don't have anything on the table, and I won't ask for the information unless the DA approves our cutting a deal," Alex told him. "If we do offer a deal, it means you will have to take steps to turn things around, Charles. The next time, the judge will look at your record and throw the book at you. Okay? I'm not trying to do a Scared Straight act here. It's something you need to think about."

"Maybe it's a good thing you joined the DA's office after all," Hamlyn said.

"I'd like to offer the Cooper kid a deal," Alex told Clemens.

"I told you we're going to trial on this one."

Alex tossed the file onto his desk. "Kid's a patsy. There's nothing but misdemeanors in his file, but we're gonna send him up the river for twenty? Come on, Chris, that's not justice."

"He was involved in an armed robbery."

"He was the wheelman and got all of five blocks before getting into a wreck. The guy who shot the clerk is dead, the others are still on the run," Alex argued. "Cooper is in over his head."

"He knew what he was doing."

"What's going on, Chris? Why are you so intent on punishing this kid?"

"We're supposed to be on the side of the law, Alex."

"No, Chris," Alex said. "We're supposed to be on the side of justice."

"I talked this over with Sunny while you were out. We're taking this to trial."

Alex suddenly realized that Clemens had been speaking in short, declarative sentences. There was no dialogue taking place between them; Chris was reciting lines that had been spoon-fed to him. Soleil Hunter's work, perhaps? And part of the rationale behind the restructuring of staff, perhaps. It wasn't the success rate, it was whether or not Soleil could get into their heads. If that was the case, he was fighting well out of his weight class.

"I told you when you made the offer. If it's a choice between the job and seeing justice done, I'll walk," Alex said. He unclipped his badge and dropped it on the desk. "I'm sorry, Chris. That kid deserves better than this. I won't be party to a lynch mob."

"Mr. Hamlyn. What's this, a petition for a change of counsel?" Judge Palsson said. They were in chambers, as the matter was administrative.

"That's correct, Your Honor," Hamlyn replied. "Signed by myself; Alex North, the attorney who will be representing the defendant; and the defendant's legal guardian."

"The Cooper case," Palsson said. "And, Mr. North, the last time I checked, you were with the District Attorney's office."

"I've stepped down from that position, Your Honor," Alex told him.

"I'm aware of your reputation, Mr. North," Palsson said. "Does this have to do with the District Attorney seeking to try Mr. Cooper as an adult?"

"Yes, Sir. I feel that doing so is counter-productive and will produce a criminal rather than result in a chance for rehabilitation for Mr. Cooper."

Palsson nodded. "Approved. Mr. North, the odds aren't in your favor, but if I had a son in a similar bind, I'd want someone like you going to bat for me."

"Yes, Your Honor. Thank you," Alex told him.

"Your Honor, this motion is totally frivolous. The defendant knew what he was doing, and the consequences his actions entailed," argued Chris Clemens. "Accessory to murder is a felony. To pretend it's something lesser is, quite frankly, insulting."

"Attempted murder," Alex said quietly. "Just for the record."

"Attempted murder," Clemens allowed. "It's still a felony."

"Trying Mr. Cooper as an adult is overreaching. The suspect who shot the guard is dead. They fled the scene; there was not an active pursuit nor a successful escape," Alex rebutted. "You can't charge Mr. Cooper on a stack of what-ifs."

"Mr. Cooper is a repeat offender with a long history of disregard for the law," Clemens said.

"Mr. Cooper is not an adult by age or by conduct," Alex said. "I feel the justice system owes h—"  
"Owes him?!" Clemens interjected.

Palsson rapped his knuckle against his desk. "District Attorney Clemens, please allow Mr. North to finish his sentence."

Alex paused for a beat. "I feel the justice system owes Mr. Cooper every opportunity to recognize his past behaviors as a dead end. Trying him as an adult on two separate counts of accessory closes that door in his face. Juvenile court is about rehabilitation; criminal court is about punishment."

"Mr. Clemens, do you have anything further to say?" asked Judge Palsson.

"No, Your Honor. We hope that you will see the wisdom in trying the defendant as an adult."  
"Mr. North?"

"Nothing further to say, Your Honor."

"Gentlemen, I'll have my decision for you tomorrow morning."

"How did it go?" asked Soleil Hunter. They were back at Clemens' condominium. He set his briefcase down, emptied his suit pockets onto a valet rack. She went to the wet bar and poured their usual libations: for him, two fingers of scotch, neat; for her, a glass of white wine.

"Judge Palsson says he'll have his decision in the morning," Chris told her, accepting the drink. "It pisses me off that Alex jumps ship then signs on as Cooper's attorney."

"I guess he believes his own press," Soleil said. "That's too bad."

Clemens had been easily manipulated through abilities Soleil had inherited from her divine parent. Chris actually believed they were in love, not realizing that he, as a mortal, had about as much in common with her as he did with an ant. But her own kind, Scions, often tended to hew to the extremes dictated by their allegiances ¬– idealistic heroes like Alex North, or allies-of-necessity like Jason Lyman.

"Give the case to Josh," she said after a moment.

"Josh isn't experienced enough," Clemens frowned. "Alex will run right over him."

"Chris, you and I both know this won't be Cooper's last run-in with the law."

Clemens was silent for a long moment, brooding. "I'll take it to trial myself."

"That will make it seem personal, Chris," Soleil said. "Give the case to Josh."

"I'll think about it."

Hunter didn't push him further. As with abilities such as Jotunblut, direct manipulation was a delicate balance. Humans were no longer Bronze Age primitives mired in superstitious thinking, easily cowed by a show of divine power. That would change. Ragnarok would follow Fimbulwinter, and the world would be reborn.

The jury selection process took nearly two days, with Alex looking for people amenable to reasoned argument over a strict law-and-order approach. He used a peremptory challenge to excuse one potential juror for insisting she adhered to 'Biblical principles,' while the prosecution rejected one woman who identified herself as a social justice advocate.

The trial began the following morning. The media was there to record the opening arguments, not unusual in high-visibility cases, but made more newsworthy by Alex 'switching sides,' as Chris Clemens had termed it.

"Alex North, for the Defendant, Charles Cooper."

"Joshua Bennett, for the People," said the younger prosecutor.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Judge Palsson said. "In regards to this trial and a motion by Mr. North to have the defendant tried as a juvenile, as befitting his age and circumstances, I am ruling that the motion is approved. Mr. Cooper will not be tried as an adult."

There was a choked sob from the gallery, most likely Charles' mother.

"A cautionary word, however," Palsson continued. "This does not lessen the severity of the matter before the court. Although the court will forego sentencing Mr. Cooper as an adult, the matter will remain on his permanent record and not be expunged on his 18th birthday. Mr. Bennett, your opening statement."  
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, despite the court ruling against treating the defendant as an adult based on his actions, the People will show that Charles Cooper did, in fact, act as an adult, an active participant in a robbery that resulted in the injury of one man, and the death of another, as well as a serious traffic accident," Bennett said.

"Mr. North?"

"Good Morning, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," Alex said. "You are here to assure that justice is carried out. The District Attorney's office will attempt to persuade you that my client acted with full knowledge, not only of his actions, but of the consequences, and that he should be treated, accordingly, as an adult. You will be told that Charles has had run-ins with the law in the past.

"But hidden behind that simple statement is a deeper truth. That the District Attorney's office is less concerned about giving Charles a fair chance as a young man who has made mistakes, and more with portraying him as a criminal who is beyond redemption and requires harsh punishment. That his behavior was such an affront to the law that he should be denied the grace we, as a society, have long accepted as a part of growing up. Thank you. "

"How's it going with the Cooper trial?" Clemens asked.

"We did the store clerks and security guard yesterday," Bennett told him. "Finishing up with the driver of the car Cooper hit, and the arresting officer. We'll show the officer's lapel camera, which has Cooper mouthing off, lots of profanity."

"Good. Make Alex work for it," Clemens said.

_"Get the fuck away from me!" Charles snarled at the officer. "Fuckin' pig!"_

Alex had seen the video; it had been part of the trial's discovery phase.

"Does the Defense wish to cross-examine?" asked Judge Palsson.

"Yes, Your Honor," Alex said. "Good Morning, Officer Montano. Just a couple of questions. What makes your lapel camera video unusual? This isn't the first time someone has cussed you out, is it?"

"No, Sir. But the suspect was verbally abusive and combative from the start."

"Suspect," Alex repeated. "When you responded to the scene of the accident, had you been advised of the robbery, any descriptions of suspects or their vehicle?"

Montano hesitated. "No."

"So you were responding to a vehicular accident, first and foremost?"

"Yes."

"In your experience, Officer Montano, do _drivers_ involved in this type of accident respond with this kind of language?"

"Yes, they do."

"So the language wasn't what alerted you to the driver and passenger being involved in a crime?"  
"No, it wasn't."

"Did anything Charles Cooper say or do make you aware of that situation?"  
"No."

"Thank you, Officer Montano. No further questions."

"Mr. Bennett, your next witness?"

"Prosecution rests, Your Honor."

"In light of the Thanksgiving Holiday, we will adjourn at this time and reconvene on Monday of next week, at which time, Mr. North, Defense may begin its presentation," said Palsson. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, please enjoy your holiday. You are all reminded that you should not discuss the case with family or friends, nor engage in independent investigation of the crime scene, persons involved, or particulars of the case."

"Please state your name for the court," Alex said.

"Charles Cooper," came the answer. He was wearing a shirt and tie, but not a jacket; his hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and he was clean-shaven. It was a compromise between the image of a clean-cut youth and a young man who still had some rough edges.

"Tell us how old you are, Charles."

"I turned sixteen last month."

"Attending high school?"

"Yes. Las Vegas High," Charles said.

"Do you have a favorite subject?" Alex asked.

"Objection," Josh Bennett called out. "Relevance."

"Mr. North?" asked Judge Palsson.

"The prosecution offered the lapel camera video as representative of my client's character. I will show that is neither a complete nor accurate portrayal of my client," Alex replied.

"Objection overruled, Mr. Bennett. Proceed, counselor."

"Basketball," Charles answered. There were some chuckles from the gallery.

"How about classroom subjects?" Alex smiled.

"Um … I don't do as well with those," Charles frowned.

"Any particular reason?"

"My parents got divorced. Mom tries hard, she really does, but that means working two jobs so we have a roof over our heads," Charles said, sounding embarrassed. "So if I don't get the subject material, there's no one to talk it over with. Can't afford one of those fancy tutoring services."

"All right. Have you been involved with the police before?"

"Yes, I have."

"What for?" Alex asked.

"Tagging, speeding, spinning donuts in the parking lot at the mall," Charles said.

"All misdemeanors, all non-violent incidents, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And how were those incidents resolved? Jail? Community service?"

"Community service for the tagging, had to help clean it up," Charles said. "Traffic tickets for the other two."

"Let's talk about the robbery, Charles. Were you involved in the planning?"

"No."

"Did you voice an opinion about the methods to be used?"

"No."

"Did you know the others were carrying guns?"

"No."

"What were you asked to do?"

"Wait outside the store and pick the guys up when they came out."

"And what actually happened?"

"Jorge comes out, dives into the back seat, yells for me to go," Charles said. "I knew something had gone wrong, because JJ and Toro, they're bolting down the street on foot. I pull into traffic, and that's when I hear Jorge moaning. I glance back, and he's lying down on the seat, bleeding like crazy. Boom, that's when I got hit."

"The jury should note that Jorge, Jorge Luis Morales, died from his wounds," Alex said. "The gentlemen named 'JJ' and 'Toro' are still at large. Charles, do you know how old Jorge was?"

"Nineteen."

"And the others?"

"JJ, he's turning 21 in May. Toro, he just turned 20."

"So they're all older than you are."

"Yeah."

"No further questions, Your Honor," Alex said.

"Mr. Bennett? Do you wish to cross-examine?" Palsson asked.

"Yes, Your honor," Josh said, perhaps a touch too eagerly.

Charles swallowed nervously, but remembered what Alex had drilled him on. He sat up straight and met the prosecutor's eyes.

"Mr. Cooper, you admit that you were a participant in the attempted robbery of a jewelry store on October 21st of this year?"

"Yes."

"And you have previously been cited for speeding and participating in an illegal sideshow?"

"Yes."

"Yet you expect the justice system to cut you some slack, as it were, because you didn't know any better?"

"Objection, Your Honor," Alex said. "Prosecution just asked my client if he's stopped beating his wife."  
"Withdrawn," Bennett said. "No further questions, Your Honor."

"Redirect, Your Honor," Alex said. Palsson nodded.

"Charles. Tell the court why you deserve a second chance."

"I guess … I guess this whole thing sorta opened my eyes," Charles said quietly. "Yeah, I've done my share of dumb things, but it ain't been because I've been throwing away _chances._ My Dad walked out on us, my Mom is working her butt off trying to pay the bills. I could be doing better in school, I suppose, but going from a traffic ticket to jail? Where's the fairness in that? How smart, how _good_ do I have to be to be given a second chance?" Charles said.

"Thank you, Charles. No further questions, Your Honor," Alex said. "Defense rests."

"Thank you, Counselor. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, we will break early for lunch. Please be back at 1PM, at which point counsel will present their closing arguments," Palsson instructed.

Alex rose to address the jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury. I believe everyone understands that my client has made poor choices, one of which has brought him here. But you also have a choice to make, an important one, in regards to Charles' future. That someone is responsible for an accident, or associated with someone who broke the law, does not make them a criminal. Sometimes, the first step to addressing a problem or obstacle is to not only recognize one is facing a problem, but to ask for help. And that is what Charles Cooper is doing here, today. We thank the court for recognizing this as an opportunity to help, and not solely to punish, and we ask that you do the same by finding Charles Cooper innocent."

Bennett's closing statement was next.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. The court has demonstrated remarkable leniency in hearing this as a juvenile offense, when, in his own words, Mr. Cooper affirmed that he was keeping company with adults, and taking part in their illegal activities. He also made clear that he has something of a long-standing habit of breaking the law, and while those prior events may seem minor, they show a clear and persistent disregard for the law. Criminals thrive on the indulgence of society, and while the District Attorney's office sympathizes with the difficulties this young man has faced, we cannot turn a blind eye to his actions," said Josh Bennett. "We ask that you find the Defendant guilty, so that the court may properly apply the law."  
"Mr. North, your Rebuttal?" said Palsson.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Alex said. "Mr. Bennett has painted a clear picture. He has told you that Charles Cooper is a scofflaw, that Charles Cooper is a criminal, that Charles Cooper is, in fact, beyond redemption or deserving of justice, and that a firm hand makes all of that _right._ The problem goes away. But you and I know that's not true – the District Attorney is well aware that trusting Charles' future to the penal system puts the possibility of redemption even further out of reach. We can't assure justice through a willingness to sweep societal problems under the carpet. Thank you."

"Mr. North, Mr. Bennett, thank you. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I will now read the instructions under which your deliberations will be conducted …"

"All rise," said the Bailiff. "Court is now in session, the Honorable John A. Palsson, presiding."

Everyone stood until Judge Palsson took his seat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, in the matter of the People vs. Charles Cooper, have you reached a verdict?"

"Yes, we have, Your Honor," said the jury foreman.

"Please present your findings to the Clerk."

The jury form was handed over and shown to Palsson. Deliberations had taken several hours, continuing past the usual 5PM close-of-business. Usually, the quicker the deliberations, the more likely a not guilty verdict would be returned.

"In the matter of the People vs. Charles Cooper, on the charge of accessory to attempted murder, the Jury finds the Defendant … not guilty," read the Clerk.

Charles lowered his head and sighed at the weight that was now off his shoulders. He could hear his mother in the gallery, sobbing in relief.

"On the charge of accessory to armed robbery, the Jury finds the Defendant … not guilty," the Clerk added.

"Mr. Foreman, have your findings been correctly reported?" asked Palsson.

"Yes, Your Honor."

Palsson looked at Bennett and North. "Counsel, would you like to poll the jury?"

"Yes, Your Honor," said Josh Bennett.

Each member of the jury was asked to affirm the verdict, and did so.

"Charles Cooper," Palsson said. "At this time, you are free to go about your business. Make every effort to benefit from the grace you have been granted this day."

"Yes, Sir."

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, at this time, your service is concluded, and all restrictions about discussing the case are lifted. If you require proof-of-service for your employer, please stop by the jury assembly room," Palsson said. "Court stands adjourned."

Alex extended his hand towards Josh Bennett; the prosecutor declined to shake hands.

Bennett said. "I think I'll start an office pool on how quickly your client ends up in jail."

"I'll overlook that comment, Counselor," Alex said. "Have a good evening."

Deb Cooper rushed to greet her son, wrapping him in a hug.

"Mom, please," Charles said.

"Mr. North … Alex, thank you. Oh, my God, thank you so much," Deb said. "I … obviously, I don't have a lot of mo—"

"You don't owe me anything, Mrs. Cooper," Alex told her.

"—ney. Nothing? I can't …"

"Charles," Alex said. "You've got a second chance. It's up to you how much that means. But, come on. Let me take you and your mom out to dinner."

The dinner was small – most of Deb's family was still in North Carolina, and Doug's family had made it clear that the divorce was All Her Fault. That she should have done more or tried harder. She was about to tuck her phone into her purse when it pinged, probably a reporter looking for further comment.

It was Saul, her brother.

_Heard it on the grapevine, Charles found not guilty, congrats! At home? Would like to stop by._

She answered by inviting him to stop by and join them for a bite. Alex North had deferred to Charles' choice for food, a local burger joint.

"Three squares in jail, but it's kinda bland," Charles said, taking a bite of a Double Cowboy Burger on Texas Toast.

"Is learning to cook – other than just to have something to eat – something you're interested in?" Alex asked.

"You mean like Food Network kinda stuff?" Charles asked. "I suppose. I guess. I mean, I heard Bobby Flay was a high-school dropout and a bit of a punk, but now he's got, like, five restaurants in Vegas alone."

"Lot of hard work, I know the owner of the Soul Food Diner, if you want to talk about the business," Alex told him. "Might have to start by bussing tables and chopping onions, but it'd be a chance to learn on the job and make some cash."

"You sound like my Uncle Saul, actually. He suggested I get a JD at Vegas Community, then go to the Academy," Charles laughed. "That'd blow the DA's mind, right?"

"I've met Saul. He's a good man."

"He might drop by," Deb said. "He heard about the verdict, but he's working the night shift."

* * *

(Meanwhile at the Furies apartment...)

"With all the stress that's going on right now and the way the holidays are hitting everyone, you know what I think we need to do?" Lya asks Toxic as she opens a beer and steps back to look at the tree that Klepto and Orithia have finished putting up in the corner of apartment they all now share.

"Other than drink you mean?" Toxic laughs as Lya rolls her eyes and hands her a beer.

"We should have a Saturnalia... you know... like the good old days," Lya replies as Klepto looks at Lya with a raised eyebrow. "Well... without the sacrifices, I mean."

"Something tells me you're not just talking about a week of partying in the apartment," Orithia chuckles as she starts digging through a box marked _Decorations._

"Wouldn't be a party if we didn't invite everyone now, would it?" Lya laughs as she sets down the beer and goes over to the box to pull out a string of purple and silver lights. "But seriously... we could have a big block party with a concert and a Christmas dinner for everybody with nowhere to go for the holidays, take donations for the Three Corners Food Bank, that kind of thing. What do you think?"

"I think you're a softie with a big heart who likes to hide behind leather and alcohol," Phoebe quietly replies as she squeezes Lya's shoulder. "And it's a great idea."

The others nod in agreement as Lya blushes and coughs. "Ok then... I'll... I'll talk to Alex and see if he can help me get the permits we need, and make some calls to Three Corners and local restaurants in the area to see if they want some good tax deductible PR this holiday season. And hey... you never know... if the party is big enough, maybe..." Lya stops and takes a deep breath as she turns from the others.

"Gods... it's so silly... I barely even know the guy..." she mutters quietly.

"Hey... it's ok to miss your family," Orithia soothes as she puts a hand on Lya's shoulder.

Lya sniffs and turns around with a half smile. "You guys are my family, you know? It'd just be nice to get... I don't know... some kind of thumbs up or pat on the head from him letting me know that I'm doing a good job... that I'm on the right track."

Lya flops down on a couch between Toxic and Phoebe and sighs. "It's not like I know what I'm doing or anything... you and the others are the warriors who fight evil with your kick-ass selves. Me... I just..."

"Care about people?" Phoebe suggests.

"Look out for everyone caught in the crossfire?" adds Toxic.

"Fight apathy on a daily basis?" finishes Klepto as she hands Lya another beer. "When you're not drinking anyway," she winks.

"Thanks guys... you're all the best of the best... and I'm not just talking about Amazon warriors," Lya replies with a smile as she holds up her beer for a toast. "Merry Christmas, everybody."

"Merry Christmas," they all reply with a clink of their bottles.


	19. Night of the Long Knives

(Early December - Evie)

_Twas' the night before Christmas, and all through the house …_

That wasn't entirely true, Evie told herself, hugging the wall of her bedroom. Christmas was still three weeks off. Her service weapon was out, pointed up in the absence of a target, but it certainly hadn't been a mouse that had made the sizeable racket in the living room. It sounded like someone was tossing the place, perhaps a burglar looking for an easy score …

Evie glances around her bedroom, remembering her phone. She could always call for backup, if need be. But...nope. She can see that the small table beside her bed only holds the latest novel she has been reading, the cover illuminated by the numbers of her LED clock.

_Well, poop. I bet I left it on the kitchen table after I talked to Saul,_ she thinks in mild irritation.

Carefully and quietly as possible, Evie moves so that she is positioned beside her bedroom door. She turns the knob slowly and cracks the door, peering through the slit to try and get some idea of what's happening. Honestly, she didn't expect to see much. She didn't remember if she closed the curtains or not before she went to bed. So, depending on that, the streetlamps outside of her apartment may or may not afford her enough light to actually see anything.

The apartment is dark except for the flicker of a flashlight beam, and that gives you more than enough light to see by. A furrowed brow, a face contorted in a half-sneer ... if you hadn't known Edward McCain was dead and buried, you might even suspect it was him.

The man tosses several drawers. It's clear he's looking for something.

Wait. What was it that Heimdall had said? If someone steals the gifts he was giving to you, you'd lose access to the powers ... and the thief, if they knew _what_ they were stealing, would gain them ...

Evie glances at the darkened wall across the room where her rucksack...errrr..._purse_ hangs on the closet doorknob. Therein are her glasses and badge. Normally, she would've left it by the front door. However, upon receiving Heimdall's gifts, she had started making sure that she kept it close. Probably, as time passed, she would grow lax and start leaving it lying about the apartment wherever she happened to stop after getting home. Thankfully, though, she's still a brand-spanking-new Scion and hyper-aware of her own state and the risks and rewards that come with it.

She takes a deep breath and thinks. There's really nothing much out there that she cares about. Well, that's not entirely true. There are a few expensive electronics and plenty of sentimental items. But, there's nothing that she would either kill or be killed for.

Slowly, she creeps towards her purse, leaving the bedroom door cracked as she does so. Trying to close it, again, would offer the opportunity for sound that might draw the invader's attention.

Once she reaches her purse, she carefully pulls out her badge in its case. She flips it open so that the clip she would normally use to hang it from a belt is exposed. Having nothing else available, Evie clips it to her panties at her hip. Getting her glasses takes a moment of digging, as they are kept in an inner, protective pouch. But, once she has them, she hangs them from the neck of her T-shirt.

Evie softly walks to her bed and crawls back onto the mattress. Biting her lip, she hopes that any noise she makes is interpreted as her simply rolling over in her sleep. She gingerly arranges herself so that she is sitting up in bed, with her gun aimed at her bedroom door. Once in position, she waits...

_If he walks in, the angle of splatter from the shot would be consistent with me being startled awake and shooting an unknown intruder. Even with me being a cop, no one will question a woman defending herself in her own bedroom from a break-in,_ Evie watches the door, tense, nerves on edge as she waits to see just how bold this man is...

The ransacking of your apartment continues. There is no doubt you will have an enormous mess to contend with.

"Why can't this bitch leave her purse on the kitchen table like everyone else?" you hear a terse complaint. "Bathroom, maybe?"

More banging of drawers. You can almost feel the thief's impatience radiating from him.

"Fuck. Of course it's in her bedroom," the voice says. "Sit tight, I got this."

Could there be more than one of them? Great.

The bedroom door begins to push inward, a faint glimmer of a penlight from behind cupped fingers. A red telltale by his ear indicates he's using a Bluetooth earpiece, his conversation with someone else - perhaps a driver outside. It would be too much to ask that he be on the phone with someone like Jason Lyman ...

The detective lets out a soft breath as the man enters her bedroom. Several thoughts fly through her mind, darting in her head like elusive, silvery fish. For a split second, she considers not shooting...

_Her finger tightens on the trigger..._

She could possibly get information from him. Maybe. But is it worth risking not acting? Or even aiming to not kill?

_The trigger pulls back..._

BANG! The sound of her gun going off resounds in her bedroom, a flash from the muzzle briefly illuminating the movie posters on the walls.

_Oh, shit. I can see ghosts,_ she thinks after the fact...

Training takes over and your shots have textbook placement - a double-tap right through the ten-ring. The force of the shots throws him backwards. His body slams against the door jamb and does a slow-motion slide to the floor.

"Muh ..." is all he manages to say.

He has no visible weapon to hand, but that's irrelevant - it's the middle of the night and he's not a house guest.

Evie moves to the man's side, all the while keeping an eye on the door. Though she is fairly certain that he was the only one in her apartment, it's better to be safe than sorry. She glances quickly down at the body, just long enough to get her bearings, before she takes the Bluetooth off of his ear and hooks it over her own.

She says nothing as she slips out of her bedroom and begins to move about her home, weapon still ready. Evie listens as she canvases her place. Fortunately, her apartment isn't big, so there aren't too many places someone could be hiding.

As expected, the front of the apartment is a mess, drawers pulled from the small desk and throughout the kitchen. Cushions were taken up, some slashed open.

Outside, the street looks normal ... except for one car where a plume of exhaust is visible against the chill night air. Although some of your neighbors work swing and/or early mornings, you know it's not any of them.

"Waitaminit, what was that? You didn't _shoot_ her, did you?" asks a voice over the Bluetooth earbud. "Come on, mano, don't fuck around."

Right now, Evie is fairly calm. But, she knows it won't last. She is living in that strange moment when training and adrenaline take over and everything is crystal clear. As soon as it passes, though, she's going to be a mess of shakes and thundering heartbeats.

Still saying nothing, she darts to the kitchen table and grabs her phone. Whoever this is needs to stay put for just a few more moments. If she talks, he'll know that the gig is up and flee. But, she wants to hear his voice so that she might recognize it again, another day.

Evie flips through the apps and finds her camera. She wants a snapshot. Something to help reference for later...

You quickly snap photos of the now-crime scene, from the aftermath of the search to the body on the floor, including one from your perspective sitting up in bed. The front door will need to be replaced, as it was shouldered open.

"Stupid cabron, she heard you and you got shot. Fuck," comes the voice. The vernacular suggests the speaker is Latino, possibly a gang member.

The line goes dead. You hear an engine rev from outside and the squeal of tires as the car you spotted earlier pulls away from the curb ...

Evie finally sits down at the kitchen table. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a couple of deep breaths, her hands already starting to shake._Funny, that_, she thinks to herself. _Everything is fine until it's all over._

For a few moments, she just sits there and looks at the colossal mess in her apartment. Some of her more delicate knick-knacks lay on the floor, broken. The couch! Oh...the couch. She wonders if the great, ugly beast can be saved. It was an eyesore but it was the most comfortable thing she ever owned. Oh, well...

_I need to call the others and let them know what happened. And get some clothes together and go to a hotel. Or something. Can't stay at the crime scene..._

First, though, she calls HQ to report the incident. Evie gets in touch with the right department and lets the officers there know that there was a break and enter and that she killed the intruder in self-defense. Then, she sits back and waits for them to arrive. She knows that she can't be moving things until the detective on the case has a chance to look at the scene.

As an afterthought, she goes and puts away her glasses and badge before the cops arrive. And puts on pants. It wouldn't do at all for them to arrive and find her sitting there, pretty as you please, dressed in nothing but an old T-shirt and panties.

The police response is understandably swift, with two officers and a detective from robbery/homicide there within ten minutes. A paramedic team is close behind. The flashing lights will certainly let everyone else in the neighborhood know something is amiss.

"Evie, you okay? Not hurt?"

You shake your head in the negative.

"In the bedroom," is all you say.

The other detective nods and walks down the hall. He isn't gone long.

"Looks pretty straightforward. Want to tell me what happened?"

"I was woken up by the sounds of someone ransacking my home. I didn't know exactly what was going on and I realized that I had left my phone in here on the kitchen table. So, I couldn't call for help," she shakes her head as she talks. "So, I grabbed my gun. About that time, the poor sod opens my bedroom door. As soon as he was through the door, I shot him. I didn't know what he had planned. I didn't know if he had a weapon. I didn't know if this was just a robbery or...something else."

Evie lets those last words hang. Both of the detectives are well aware of what else the man could've had in mind. Of course, Evie is fairly certain that all he was supposed to do was steal her gifts, but she can't exactly tell the other detective that. _He just came in to steal my magic sunglasses and badge!_

In all honesty, she _didn't_ know what else was planned. He man could've decided to kill her as she slept, despite the fact that she is fairly certain they were told to just rob her. The surprise in the accomplices voice when he said "You didn't shoot her?!" would indicate that it was supposed to be a robbery. But, you never can tell. The man might've decided to try and curry favor by doing away with an enemy...show initiative and all that.

Evie sighs and shrugs, "That's pretty much it."

"Sounds like a justified shoot to me," says your colleague. "Internal Affairs will want to interview you, and you'll be on paid leave for a couple of days while all that's sorted out."

"Hey, Detective," calls out one of the officers. Both you and your colleague answer out of habit.

"Oh, geez. Sorry. Anyway, CSI is here," he adds.

The scene is photographed, dusted, and measured. Your ability to assess circumstances provides nothing but reassurance. Nothing your instincts tell you is at odds with your statement.

After the front of the house is photographed, the two officers help you set things to rights as much as possible. Apart from the slashed cushions and some small breakage - a smashed coffee mug, broken glass in a photo frame - it almost looks normal.

"We can stand watch for the rest of the night, or we can take you to a hotel," offers one officer.

"Aw, no guys. I appreciate your help cleaning up and the offer to stand guard, but I'll be fine. I know you have more pressing things to take care of than to babysit me all night," she smiles and moves to the fridge. Evie reaches in and pulls out a couple of Cokes. She then fishes around in a big basket on the kitchen counter and pulls out some chocolate chip cookies.

With a smile, she hands the goodies to the nearest cop, "I think a snack is the least I can do, at this point." She pauses for a second and adds, "Neither of you would happen to know a good upholsterer, would you?"

Her eyes skim across her mangled couch, passing on towards the hallway to her bedroom. Her mind flits to the bloodstain there, _I need to make a will. I need to leave something behind in case we all fail or are killed. There will be other scions and they will need something to work with..._ She thinks of the notes that Thomas left behind with his own family. _Just in case._

"Mmmm, coooooookies," says one officer in a Cookie Monster imitation.

"There's a consignment store down on Third, I think the owner does that sort of thing," says the other officer. "Store's called _Designs by Janet_ \- does a lot of reclaiming and recycling of old stuff, the whole urban treasure scene."

The attack has made it clear that Lyman's bunch is willing to offer harm, which suggests whatever plans they have are nearing an important stage. But it doesn't feel quite right. The world isn't unsettled enough, angry enough to be rushing headlong into Ragnarok.

Something is wrong.

"Thanks! I'll check that place out," Evie gives a tired, sad smile and flops down into a kitchen chair. "Well, I will when the sun comes up, anyway. I'm not going to have much else to do than that and go door shopping."

At about this time, Evie's phone rings. She picks it up from the kitchen table and glances at the name, surprised that anyone would be calling at this hour. However, she sees Lya's name and is immediately alert.

"Excuse me for a minute, guys. I need to take this," Evie apologizes to the officers as she passes them on the way to her bedroom where she can talk privately.

After a brief conversation, Evie returns to the living room, "That was a friend of mine. At first, I thought something was wrong because...well..." She gestures vaguely at the apartment, indicating that her frame of mind was already in that particular mode.

"Turns out they just want to hang out. Lya and the band have weird hours and sometimes they forget that not everyone else is usually awake this late," she chuckles. "Of course, with our line of work...we have strange hours, too. So, I guess it's not all that odd."

"Anyway, I took them up on the offer. They're going to pick me up and we'll go do something or the other. It'll be better than moping around here until sunrise," she gives her fellow officers another tired smile.

"You guys get on out of here. Take the cookies and be free! I'll be fine until Lya shows up."

* * *

About fifteen minutes later there's a knock on the door. "Hey Evie, your chariot awaits! You know I turn into a pumpkin if I don't get a drink in me..." Lya calls out before turning to the others. "Mmm... Pumpkin Ale... I should pick some up later."

Klepto rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Not like you're driving..."

As Lya raps upon the door, she feels it shift and open slightly on its own. It's at this point that she notices that lock area is completely busted where the intruder shouldered his way into Evie's home.

"Come on in," Evie says as she opens the door and gestures for the crew to come inside. "Let me just grab a clean set of clothes and we'll get out of here. Just in case I change my mind and decide to stay at a hotel, later."

As they come inside, Evie gestures to the two officers. They had decided to stay with their fellow until her ride arrived. "These are Officers Rosencrantz and Morgan. They were keeping me company until you got here"

"Hello, ladies," one of the officers says, giving them a friendly nod and smile.

"Hey, wait...I know you." says the shorter and darker of the two, Morgan. "You guys were the ones who did the benefit a few weeks ago. The one that got interrupted by that fire."

Officer Rosencrantz shakes his head, "Crazy stuff, that. I'm glad that you and everyone else came out of that okay."

"Some people don't appreciate punk rock I guess," Lya chuckles as she reaches out and shakes their hands with a smile as the others nod in greeting. "Lya Bach and the Furies... nice to meet you officers. But seriously... we just did our best to keep everyone from panicking... it was hard working people like you guys who really saved the day."

Lya's eyes widen before she starts patting her coat pocket. "You know... I just might..." She pulls out a black &amp; white 8x10 promo shot of the band and a silver sharpie. "I mean, it's the least we can do for our men in blue, right?" she winks as she leans over the coffee table and signs the picture "To our dedicated men and women in blue! XXOO Lya Bach" before handing it off to Klepto and the others to sign.

Toxic looks around the disheveled room and whistles. "Damn, Evie... they really did a number on your place, didn't they. You ok?"

"Aw, shucks, ma'am. We're just doing our jobs," Rosencrantz smiles and accepts the photo. "Thanks for the photo! I'll have to see if my girl knows you guys. I bet she does. She listens to all kinds of wild music. I'm afraid I'm kind of boring. Just listen to country mostly, myself."

Evie reappears from her bedroom, a small bag in one hand. She had tossed a clean set of clothes and a toothbrush into it, the act taking only a couple of minutes.

Evie nods at Toxic's question, her expression grim, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a bit rattled. I certainly came out of this venture better than the intruder did."

She makes a quick detour into the kitchen and grabs the entire package of cookies off the counter. Evie tosses them to Morgan as she passes, "Thanks for keeping me company, guys. I hope the rest of your night is quiet."

"You, too. If you need anything at all, we'll be patrolling this area. Just give us a yell," Morgan nods to Evie, Lya and the rest of the band as he slips past them.

"Nice meeting you ladies," Rosencrantz smiles as he follows his partner out the door.

"That's the way any intrusion should end in my book," Toxic replies. "Better you than him."

"Keep up the good work, gentlemen," Lya salutes the officers as she holds the door open for everyone. "I don't know about you guys, but after tonight I think we could all use a drink...or three."

"No kidding," Evie agrees, following everyone out. She pulls the door shut behind everyone and clucks sadly as it doesn't latch. She hates leaving the apartment wide open but...what are you going to do?

"Oh, wait!" she says, a thought suddenly occurring to her. The cops turn briefly, thinking that perhaps she is speaking to them, but she waves them on. "I just forgot something."

Evie goes back into the house and moves to her bookshelf where she keeps her journals. She has three of them that contain notes from all of her previous cases and another couple that are personal. All of these, she tosses into her bag. She then goes and grabs her address/phone book from its place in the kitchen counter and adds it to the bag.

Lya and the band step back inside and watch as Evie bustles about. She hands her bag to one of the band and says, "Do you mind carrying that? Thanks!"

Evie goes back to her bedroom, stepping over the bloodstains. She moves to her PC and quickly unplugs it from the monitor. She scoops it up under one arm and comes back out.

"Okay, now I'm ready," she say. "I'm not about to leave anything that would give these jokers any kind of edge on us lying around in an unlocked apartment."

"Good idea," Lya replies as they load everything into the van and make room for Evie to hop in. "We should head somewhere that isn't a regular place for either of us just in case, you know?"

She turns around in her seat to address everyone in the back of the van.  
"Hey Orithia... what was that one place you said was a cool bar? Something fishy... wasn't it?"

"The Piranha Club," Orithia chuckles. "It's an alternative nightclub over on Paradise with these skyboxes on the second floor that will give us a great view of the door if anyone should stop by uninvited."

"Sounds like a winner to me," Klepto replies. "I doubt any of those Lobos would be caught dead in there."

Lya claps her hands with a smile. "All right then, the Piranha Club it is! We'll get a few drinks and then we can all spill about our exciting encounters tonight."

(Early December - Lya)

Knowing people who lived on the streets (and having done so herself, in a past life), Lya knew the cardboard box propped against the fence was someone's shelter against a chill winter's night. They probably expected to skim the trash for discarded fast food, perhaps even the dregs of a can of beer.

"That … that's just wrong," Phoebe said quietly. "Bright lights, big city, except for the people who fall through the cracks."

"It's a look at what the Titans have in store for humanity," Orithia said. "But we can't _make_ them see. They have to choose."

Phoebe fished in her pockets, came up with a five dollar bill. "Okay with you, Lya?"

"Like you have to ask, Phoebe," Lya smiles before kneeling down a respectful distance from the box. "Hey... you need some help?" Lya calls out softly. "I know some good people at the Rescue Mission who could give you a bed for the night so you can get out of the cold. We could help you get there if you need..."

There's a muffled intake of breath. Not of surprise, but tinged with the don't-look-at-me sadness common to people who suddenly find themselves without shelter or the means to change that circumstance.

"Tossed me out," comes the answer. "Got the shakes too bad, and ... the rage is always there. Can't hold it back sometimes."

"This might warm you up," Lya replies as she pulls her flask out of her pocket and offers it to the destitute man for a drink.

"Perhaps a healthy focus for your rage could help?" offers Klepto. "When the desire for combat burns in a warriors's blood, they search for a focus to release their anger that allows them to continue to help people."

"Hey that's a good idea," Lya replies a her eyes light up. "Gods...what was his name that had the boxing club for troubled kids? Jorge's kids next door wouldn't stop talking about the place when I lived in my old apartment...Relentless Youth! That's it!" she snaps her fingers. "Maybe you just need a place that can help you focus your rage into something you can control."

"It's not like that. It's not anger, it's ... they gave me something. Jolting Blue, something like that," he says. "Doesn't stop. You just want to hurt people, smash things."

"Jotunblut..." Lya mutters as she looks up at the Furies grimly.

"Man... don't they know life is hard enough on the streets without people forcing bad drugs on you? Tell you what..." she rummages through her coat pockets for whatever cash she has handy and then gestures to the others for donations. "If you can tell me whatever you can remember about the people who gave you that drug, I'd like to pay you for the information. No charities... no pity parties... just honest work. All I ask is that you use this cash to do whatever it takes to keep that rage under control... whether it's a bottle of whiskey, a fat blunt, you name it... because I've seen what that drug does to people."

She slaps the cash along with her card into the man's hand. "If you feel like you're really losing control and you're afraid you're going to hurt people... please... _please_ call me, okay? My name's Lya... and I want to help."

The man looks back at you with red-rimmed eyes and a familiar face. You realize it's one of the gang members from the almost-fight at the Soul Food Diner. Jotunblut would explain the idiocy of picking a fight with Hitoshi present, let alone the Furies.

"You ..." he says. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit."

His eyes roll back in his head and his teeth begin to chatter, but not from the cold. His hands clench and unclench spasmodically.

"Lya. Get back," Toxic says, flatly.

"My master has ordered your death," the man says. "I ... grrrr."

He charges out of the box, almost blindly so, but driven by a rage not unlike that of a Maenad ...

"Damn it... fight it man... fight it!" Lya calls out as she backs away and reaches for the Beretta that she keeps tucked in the back of the waistband of her leather pants. "If you want your life back you have to take control of it and stop! You're more than a thug... remember your name!"

"Or else we will stop you ourselves..." Toxic finishes coldly as the Furies all prepare for battle around her.

The only indication that your moment's blessing has any effect is the young man charging past you and the Furies, to smash himself headlong into the wall. It's enough to knock bits of stucco off the building, but not enough to stop him.

It's almost like he's in the grip of a seizure. You begin to understand that he is trying to fight off the Berserker-like rage, the compulsion to follow orders ... and that it's a losing battle. When his will falters, what is left will be acting on almost primal instincts.

"We need to put him down but try not to hurt him... he can't help himself!" Lya calls out to the Furies.

"Klepto... see if you can knock him out while he's disoriented!"

The young man continues to smash against things, Jotunblut-empowered strength evident in holes punched through walls. Klepto circles around him, making several feints to draw him away and into a vulnerable position.

He charges once more.

Klepto pivots and leaps onto the man's back, her arms snaking about his neck in a chokehold. She has one knee tucked up by his shoulder blades for added leverage. It's like riding a bucking bronco, a game of time.

Finally, the enraged youth drops to his knees, panting heavily. Klepto maintains the pressure until he topples.

"That won't keep him out for long," she says.

Lya grabs her phone and quickly dials 911. "You've got to help me... my friend is overdosing on something like PCP and I'm afraid he's going to hurt himself and my friends... can you guys send an ambulance to Freemont Street across from The Griffin? Please hurry, and make sure you bring some really strong sedatives!"

Once she's finished talking to the emergency operator she bends down and quickly searches the unconscious man for her card and any other clues. "I really wish I could help you, man... but I think being around you now is just going to make things worse," she mutters before looking up at the others. "If we can't find anything then we need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up again. Maybe if I'm not around he'll calm down again... and hopefully if he gets taken to the hospital they can try to get this crap out of his system."

"It's not a drug, it's a ritual infusion of power. A binding," says Orithia, frowning. "I don't know if EMT's can do anything other than keep him for observation, and then put him in a straitjacket and a padded room."

Your search turns up nothing. Some crumpled dollar bills, nothing sizeable, damp from sweat or simply being out in the elements. No wallet, no ID or Driver's License. No house or car keys.

"Right. Some kid pumped up on whatever that Nordic shit is called just happens to be lying in the alley outside the club we were playing at," says Toxic. "And he knew who you were, Lya. That his 'master' had ordered your death."

"We have to warn the others," Phoebe said quietly.

An ambulance pulls up.

"Are you the one who called?" asks the driver, a young man with dark, curly hair. You remember him - and his partner - from the scene at the fundraiser for The Dive.

Lya nods and whispers "Start making phone calls," to Phoebe before stepping forward to greet the EMTs. "Yeah that's me. Our friend there has been jacked up with some seriously dangerous stuff that makes him a danger to himself and others. We managed to knock him out after he ran into the wall, but who knows how long he's going to stay unconscious before he loses it again."

She turns to the blonde EMT that Alex had talked about and takes her hand. "Please...if there's any way you can help him, it's not his fault... he just got caught in the crossfire."

"We'll do what we can," the blonde paramedic says. "Respiration is shallow and fast. Pulse ... 100. High end for patient's apparent age."

She attached a cuff to the man's arm and took his blood pressure. "BP, elevated, 160/85. Pupils pinpoint, normal response. Let's get him prepped for transport. Call General, have them advise."

As the driver calls it in, the blonde looks at you and says quietly, "Jotunblut?"

You nod in the affirmative.

"He's in for a rough time, then," she says. "Short of freeing his soul - and he won't be going to Valhalla - there's little I can do to help a mortal who's been empowered in this manner. I'm sorry."

"General says ringers lactate and transport," TJ interrupts. Not knowing that it isn't a conventional drug, he adds, "He'll be okay, Miss. We'll take care of him."

Lya runs a hand across her face and sighs. "They secretly take everything away from people and then publicly act like their saviors before using them and tossing them away... it's just not right," Lya mutters before turning back to Valeria.

"Maybe a quiet padded cell away from all this mess is the best he can hope for. At least he won't be living on the street. Thank you, Valeria."

There's a brief pause as they collapse the gurney and lift it into the ambulance.

"Be careful," she tells you. "The enemy has seen fit to send Einjehar and Jotunblut-thralls after you, Lya Bach. All of you have been fortunate. A storm is coming, and I fear it is the beginning of Fimbulwinter."

Lya sighs again. "Don't I know it... I see it on the streets every day. You be careful too, Valeria."

As the ambulance pulls away Lya turns back to Pheobe with a questioning glance.

"I've tried calling Alex, but I'm afraid all I got was a voice mail," Pheobe replies with a shake of her head.

Lya whips out her phone to give Evie a call and bites on her nail impatiently as the phone rings. "Come on...pick up...pick up..."

"In the meantime I suggest we get out of here," says Toxic as she thumbs over her shoulder to their van down the street.

The phone rings several times but Evie does, indeed, pick up. And, when she answers, her voice is not clouded by sleep. It sounds like she was already awake, "Lya, what's up?"

"Evie... thank your Gods! I was getting worried," Lya replies as Klepto gets behind the wheel and she and the rest of the Furies climb into the van. "Are you OK? We ran into an old Lobo acquaintance after the show tonight and it turns out he was made into a Jotunblut. Lyman and his assholes convinced this poor bastard that it was a new drug or something and left him living on the streets on the off chance that he might see us and take us out. If they're gunning for me, then you know they're going to be looking for the rest of us. Have you heard from the others?"

Evie sits down on the corner of her bed and heaves a sigh, "Gawds...this night just gets more and more full of suck."

"Yeah, some goon broke into my apartment. Tore the place up good but...it didn't end well for him. I'm going to be on leave for a few days while Internal Affairs sorts it out," she says. "A couple of officers are still here with me but I'm going to send them back out, soon. There's no need for them to stay here all night. It's not like I'm going back to sleep anytime soon."

Though she is fairly certain that the officers wouldn't be purposefully eavesdropping, Evie is still vague. She knows she can't talk too openly, right now. She doesn't want to make mention of "others" or drop any names.

"Damn.. glad you're ok, girl! Something big must be getting ready to happen if he's trying to take us all out like this. You want us to stop by or pick you up somewhere? Otherwise we're on the move and calling Alex and Hitoshi next."

"Yeah, actually, I think that is a good idea. It'll get me out of here and maybe take my mind off of things," Evie says that last part more for the benefit of officers who might hear. Being with Lya and the Furies will certainly not lessen Evie's worry, but it will mean that the team is at least partially together. Strength in numbers, and all that. Plus, they can all talk openly while riding in the van. "I'll get together an overnight bag. I don't think I want to stay here, tonight, either."

"Getting the group back together sounds like a good idea... we're on our way," Lya responds.

"We're heading over to Evie's place," Lya tells Klepto who nods and makes a quick turn down a side street.

* * *

(Piranha Club - Evie &amp; Lya)

It was a Friday night. The Piranha Club was crowded and would likely continue to be so through the early hours of the morning. When the club closed at 4AM, all-nighters would spill out into the street and migrate to another location.

The club was aptly named, the glass façade and skyboxes giving the venue an aquatic feel. Moreover, there was enough activity reflected or projected to surround guests in transparent, almost ghostly images, as if the glistening flanks of the club's namesake were flitting about the room.

"We're in Skybox Five," Orithia said. "It's on the left side as you come in. You can't see it from the entrance, and it's next to an emergency exit."

"Excellent! Thanks, Orithia," Evie smiles at the Amazon as she gathers up her bags. Fortunately, the bag she grabbed for her clothes is a small one, not one of those giant, honking gym bags that some people have.

She whistles in appreciation as she walks through the club. She's only ever seen it from the outside. Despite the way the evening has been going prior to this point, she can't help but smile at the way the lights flicker and dance around the glass. Evie chuckles, "Okay, when this is all over, I want to visit the San Francisco aquarium."

Once everyone is settled into the skybox, the detective looks to Lya. Even though the place is crowded and there is music, she still keeps her voice pitched as low as possible and still be heard as she asks, "You said something about Jotunblut? What happened?"

"Klepto, keep an eye on the floor for anything unusual, would you please?" Lya asks as she offers her drummer the seat closest to the glass. "Phoebe, would you try calling Hitoshi?"

She sits down across from Evie and sighs. "Craziest thing... we were walking back to the van after our charity show for the food drive when we came across a homeless guy sleeping under some cardboard," Lya begins before leaning over to Toxic and whispering "Could you see if they have any Pumpkin Ales? Whatever you guys want is on me."

"Anyway," she begins again as Toxic nods and gets up to get drinks, "Phoebe wanted to give the guy some cash and I wasn't about to say no to a guy in need... so I tried to talk to the guy and it turns out he was one of the Lobos who we all ran into at the Soul Food Cafe. Turns out he was shot up with what he thought was a drug called... what was it, Orithia?"

"I think he called it Jolting Blue," the blonde replies.

"Yeah... and it left him so messed up that none of the shelters would take him," Lya continues with a frown. "We tried to help him but as soon as I mentioned my name he started losing control and changing, moaning about how 'his master had ordered my death."

Lya sighs. "He did his best to fight it and managed to avoid attacking me at first...but it was a losing battle. I was hoping there would be some way to get it out of his system and help him so Klepto knocked him out and I called 911. Lo and behold, Alex's girlfriend Valeria answered the call. She told me there wasn't any help for the poor guy though... so at best he's probably going to spend the rest of his life sedated in a padded cell."

Toxic returns with drinks and starts passing out beers to everyone, including a Sam Adams beer with the label "Norse Legend" for Evie.

She hands a Pumpkin Ale to Lya. "You're lucky the bartender is pretty," she chuckles as she sits down at the table.

"Once we had things under control Phoebe tried calling Alex but he didn't answer his phone. We then called you... and here we are. " Lya leans across the table with a worried look. "If you haven't heard from Alex... is there a way to use your cop influence to try and find him? I've got the feeling we're all being targeted tonight."

Evie grins as she notices the label on the beer that Toxic hands to her. "Darned tootin', I get legend. Booyah...or something. I don't know. What do Vikings say? Rawr?"

However, the detective's mood quickly sours as she listens to Lya's tale.

"Aw, shit," Evie curses quietly, running a hand over her face. Her lips press together in anger. She knew what an ass Lyman is. I mean, that was evident when he set fire to The Dive. But this...this makes her seethe quietly. Ruining someone's life just to set a trap for an enemy? Granted, the Lobos aren't exactly angels, but this is beyond contemptible. Also, Lyman was betting on Lya's kind heart to get her into trouble. That, also, pisses Evie off to no end.

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and massages the bridge of her nose with two fingers. She calms herself, getting her emotions back under control. _Focus on the problem, Evie._

"Okay, let's see...since I'm on leave while Internal Affairs sorts out the mess at my place, I'm not going to have access to any official resources. But. I might be able to call in some favors, if need be." She pauses and thinks before continuing, "Hopefully, we'll be able to get in touch with Hitoshi. Once we have the three of us together, we should probably swing by Alex's office and house to see what's what."

"If he's home and just asleep, he'll completely understand if we wake him up once we tell him what's going on. In fact, that's what I am hoping happens. Just knock on the door and he comes stumbling out, all bedhead and bleary eyes. But," she sighs, "I doubt we'll be that lucky."

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, going by his place sounds good to me. We can keep trying for Hitoshi while we go," Lya nods.

* * *

(Why Alex Didn't Answer the Phone)

Alex woke as his head banged against the floor. Which wasn't because of a nightmare, though the circumstances were clearly such. His arms were bound behind his back and he was being dragged, feet first, down a tunnel, and he hadn't a clue how this had come about.

He remembered dropping into the sack after being up for just over 24 hours, not entirely unusual for him. Rousing briefly to the sound of something crunching, maybe a car accident on the highway … then blackness. And here, wherever that was.

He was unceremoniously flung over someone's shoulder as they began to climb a rough-hewn staircase. It looked like they were in one of the storm drains running under the city, fortunately a dry one. A heavy metal door creaked open, slammed shut behind them.

He was thrown onto a table.

His captor was an ugly son-of-a-bitch, a low forehead over piggish eyes and a broken nose and several days' worth of body odor, which was decidedly rank.

"Sitja," he rumbled. He ambled over to the corner and drank deeply from a bowl whose contents sloshed mostly down his chest. A strip of jerky that looked more like a small steak was tossed into its maw and masticated in defiance of every parent's admonition not to chew with your mouth open.

"Where am I?" Alex asked.

A grunt.

"Who are you?" he tried.

Another grunt. No help there. Alex strained at his bonds, a tangle of steel chain and wire. Escaping wasn't a question of strength – there was no slack which he could use to snap or break them.

The sound of keys working in a lock – several locks – echoed briefly before another door opened, then closed, bolts being thrown back into place.

"Ah, Alex. Comfortable?" asked a familiar voice.

Lyman.

* * *

It was well known that you could see the lights of Las Vegas shining from a distance, but the fireball that blossomed out of one neighborhood was both spectacular and terrifying. The accompanying 'boom' rattled windows for several miles, and part of the city went dark as power lines fell.

The outage included the Piranha club, which was suddenly dark and silent, then lit by pips and glowing squares as people used their smartphones to illuminate their immediate surroundings.

"What in Zeus' name was _that?_" asked Toxic.

The exodus of patrons on the floor stopped as people began looking _at _their smartphones instead of using them for light. While the skybox was too far above the crowd to pick out detail, screens were lit by an orange flare, then the vague shapes of a news program.

Evie's phone vibrated and flashed with an incoming call, which she answered.

"Cartwright," she said. "Uh-huh. Oh, shit. On my way. Don't have my car, going to have to have friends drop me off, I guess. 10-4."

She hung up and ran her hand through her hair.

"There's been an explosion, apparently a gas main. Part of a neighborhood is gone and everything is on fire," she said. "It's all hands on deck. I have to report to the mobile command post."

"What neighborh—oh, damn," said Klepto. "Phoebe, you have Hitoshi on the phone, right? Which means … Alex."

"That bastard isn't going to be happy until he destroys the damn world," Lya growls as she slams her phone into her pocket. "Let's get Evie where she needs to go, guys... because I don't like this one bit. They send Jotunblut after us but destroy a city block for Alex? Definitely fishy..."

"Well, he did ask Alex what it would take to kill him," Orithia said. "And he's a son of Tyr, so it may be more closely bound up in their notions of the world's end."

"We'll see when we get there," Lya replies as they head out through the dark bar. "There's a good chance we might run into Valeria at the scene... if we do I definitely want to see if she can tell us anything. If she didn't collect Alex... she might know if someone else did."

"I hope Valeria has good news," Evie says as they hurry out of the bar. "I'll be happy as long as he's not dead."

Evie puts aside her anger, falling into emergency mode with ease. As they all pile into the van, she is all curt business and concern as she touches base with folks via her phone, trying to get an assessment of what to expect once she reaches the command post.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," Lyman smiled. "Someone else has that honor."

"Soleil Hunter?" Alex said.

"How very insightful of you. I suppose she might preside over things, but … everything at the proper moment," the Son of Loki said. "Yours will be … impressive. Death to the Son of Tyr."

Alex's eyes widened both at the phrase, but the intonation. There was no denying Lyman had been the voice on the radio before the chopper had gone down.

"Don't miss," Alex snarled. "There's blood between us, Jason – if that's really your name. And there will be a reckoning."

"A pity you haven't the power to back those words up," Lyman laughed. "At first, I was concerned when I realized new Scions were coming to the fore. And then I realized your hapless band is barely invested in their powers. Rapid healing. Superior strength. It's a pity Soleil couldn't ply your mind like the others. It would have been amusing to have you working for us."

Alex strained against his chains briefly.

Lyman laughed. "You'll want to be careful with that. The chain is nothing special, but the wire? It's a bit like Sleipnir, only nastier. Not so much unbreakable as enchanted to be razor-sharp when strained against. You might break the chains, but you'll cut your hands off in the process. Your ability to heal won't help you there."

Alex glared at Lyman.

"Then again, I could be lying. It's a gift," Lyman smiled. "Only way to find out is to try it."

Alex let his shoulders sag as he feigned defeat. Lyman didn't buy it.

"You'll have the opportunity to try. I have things to attend to amidst the chaos," he said. "Still, I'll leave Surt here to watch over you."

Police cruisers were angled across the street, their lights flashing.

"That's not good," said Klepto. "Alex's place is behind the cordon."

"So's the MCP," Evie said. "Pull up, they'll have to let us through."

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Sorry, the street – hell, most of the neighborhood – is closed off," said an officer, coming up to the window. "Red Cross is set up in the parking lot by Target."

"They're my ride, Pete," Evie said, leaning into view and displaying her badge.

"Detective Cartwright?"

Evie smiled. "Was out with friends. Didn't have time to get my own car. I'm heading to the MCP."

"All right," Pete told her. "We'll call it in so you don't get hassled."

The neighborhood was engulfed in flames, with thick, black smoke rising to the sky.

"The enemy did _this_ to get to Alex?" Orithia said disdainfully. "Cowards."

"Scorched earth," said Klepto. "Did someone crank this up to 11 when we weren't looking?"

"New game, new rules," said Toxic. "Lya, you'll have to start wearing body armor. Kevlar, Hephaestus' factory discards, whatever. The Furies will be armed."

"Gods...how many people? Asleep in their beds, dreaming and suddenly...just...," Evie whispers, torn between tears and pure fury. "Remind me again why I don't just find this asshole and put bullet between his eyes. Because, shit...I'm ready to. If I have to throw it all away...my life, my career... to stop _this_ from happening again, I'll do it."

She takes a deep breath, shakes her head and closes her eyes for a second. Evie centers herself, again, and says, "Okay. I need to do whatever I can, here, to help. I don't know if the cops will let you stay after you drop me off. They'll probably kick you out."

"Maybe you can see if you can find Valeria. I'll keep an eye out for her, too, but who knows what they will assign me to do, at this point. I'll most likely be shuttled to wherever I'm needed most. So, I have no idea if I'll see her."

"Do you guys mind keeping my hard drive and journals? I can't be lugging them around with me. Honestly, I have no idea if there is anything in them that would be useful to Lyman, but I'm not taking any chances."

As she talks, she pulls up her T-shirt and starts pins her Magic Badge inside her bra. She then holds her sunglasses for a second and thinks before asking, "Do you guys have any medical tape or anything like that?"

"Triage," Toxic answers. "Basic field dressings, making splints, setting bones."

"I have a First Aid certification, but this is beyond that," Phoebe said.

Evie nods curtly. As she throws on the vest, she says, "Chief, my friends here know some first aid. They're not paramedics or anything, but I figure that we can use all the help we can get. They're good people. I trust them to do right by everyone here."

* * *

The troll bumbled about, tending to a fire and cooking something that had squealed a moment before there was a dry-twig snapping sound.

"What's for dinner?" Alex asked. "Rat?"

"Meat," muttered Surt.

"Good stuff," Alex said.

"Hunh. Good stuff," Surt agreed.

With Surt concerned more with cooking his food than guarding him, Alex strained against his bonds, testing them. It would be ironic if some kind of monofilament or enchanted wire sliced his hands off, but Lyman had acknowledged that Alex and the others were just coming into their powers. So why go to extremes, unless there was more to the story? Why draw Lya, Hitoshi, and Evie into all of this, unless they were in a position to interfere, and had the power to stop the Titans?

He strained against his bonds, enough to test them. He felt no trickle of warmth down his arms, nothing to suggest Lyman's threat was real. And then he realized it was a puzzle, a test. He worked his arms back and forth, listening to the sound of the chains.

And the rattle of a padlock.

Something he might be able to smash or which would give way before razor-sharp wire cut through his wrists …

* * *

(Hitoshi)

Hearing the tone of urgency in Phoebe's voice, you snap awake.

"Phoebe. What's wrong?"

"Trouble," she answers. "Lya was attacked. So was Evie. There was a gas main explosion in Alex's neighborhood, it's cordoned off. There has to be a nasty surprise waiting for you, as well."

"Hold" Hitoshi says softly. His hand went to his cane as he quietly moved in bed, his senses alert for anyone moving in the house. Feeling his cane, he softly rolls out of bed, as his eyes instantly adjust to the darkness in the house. Thanks to his new gift from Izanagi, lights were no longer needed to see by. Night was like day to him at this moment.

From the upstairs balcony, you watch as two figures splash something about the living and dining room. One steps into the backyard, while the other pays a brief visit to the kitchen ...

* * *

(Evie and Lya)

"… five houses at ground zero. If there are any survivors, it'll be a miracle," said the Chief. "Another ten on fire, families evacuated safely. We're going through the neighborhood door-to-door, call outs on the loudspeakers, wake everyone up and get them the hell out of here. We're expecting air tankers in the next thirty minutes."

The map pinned to the bulletin board was a city-planning street view showing individual lots, with ground zero demarked in orange highlighter, and a secondary perimeter in fluorescent yellow. The neighborhood had been further quartered and marked with a Sharpie.

"Cartwright, you're back on active," the Chief said, handing her a day-glo safety vest and a police-grade flashlight. "Work with 7 Paul 10 and 12 on the door-to-doors in Quadrant 2."

* * *

Keeping his voice barely above a whisper Hitoshi lets Phoebe know whats going on. "I have visitors. I hope they don't have kids, otherwise I'm going to feel bad about what I do next. Give me Ten, then call back."

Turning off his phone he lays it on his bed before unsheathing Honjo Masamune. One hand palming the railing he leaps over it. Landing he goes into a tuck and roll ending with him back on his feet as he brings the sword across striking the man in the dining room in the neck. The man barely has time to register a surprised look on his face before the keen blade flashes through his neck. He has just enough time to gurgle and reach up as a thin red line slowly appears where the blade passed. As the light dies in the man's eyes, his head topples to the floor.

Hitoshi catches he body and slowly lays it down. Quietly he steps into the shadows, listening for the other intruder.

"We're done here, man," comes a voice from the kitchen. "Let's light it off."

The second man steps back out into the dining room, but does not see his associate on the patio.

"Fuck, man, where'd you go?" he mutters. "Fuck."

And then he notices the tang in the air. The smell of blood. And meat. He looks down to see his partner's head on the floor, sightless eyes staring back at him, and blood seeping into the carpet.

He screams and starts to run. Except the carpet is already damp with accelerant, and he slips, falling face-forward onto the floor. He continues to scrabble towards the patio door

Shaking his head Hitoshi walks towards the man, his blade still dripping blood. Yanking a chair out from the dining room table he slams the 4 legs down on either side of the man's torso so that his arms are in between the legs, and then sits in it, pinning the man to the floor. Quietly he taps the man on the neck with the flat of the blade.

"Lets you and I have a chat. If you impress me, you might get to live and go into police custody. If you don't... Well, you did break into my house with the intent of burning it down" Hitoshi's voice is low and menacing.

Just then Matty's voice echoes from upstairs. "Hitoshi, what in the fuck is going on?!"

"Matty, go back to bed, you saw none of this. These men were going to kill us by setting the house on fire.

One is dead, and the other one is going to tell me everything he knows."

He looks down at the man pinned below him. "Because he doesn't want to end up like his partner... Am I right?"

"What do you mean, 'one is _dead?_'" Matt exclaims. "Hitoshi! Oh, my god. Oh, god."

He gulps loudly, and you realize he's looking down from the upstairs balcony.

"Oh, god, I so did not see that," he exclaims. "I am Going Back to Bed!"

He walks away, then returns.

"And I am _not_ helping to clean _that_ up!"

"Fuck you, puta cabron," says the man on the floor. "You're gonna kill me either way. Won't solve your problems. Won't save your friends."

He laughs.

"I thought it was all bullshit, until I saw stuff, man, shit you can't explain, not even that asshole on History Channel talking about aliens. Right? The Norse gods are really space aliens, right? What part of Valhalla do the Japs come from?"

Hitoshi chuckles. "Yea, we don't really come from Valhalla. Not really sure where we go when we die. Anyway, that's neither here nor there."

He pins the man's right wrist to the floor with his foot and puts the tip of Honjo Masamune against the man's thumb.

"So, Here's how this is gonna go, and be aware, I've already sunk to torturing someone, AND I just killed your friend. There really ARE three ways out of this. the first one is you actually get to go with the cops and live another day, the second is I kill you Swiftly, and the third is I torture the fuck out of you before I kill you."

He puts a little pressure on the blade so it barely slices the man's thumb at the web.

"Who the fuck sent you?"

There's a through-gritted-teeth sound of undeniable pain. Honsho is, of course, not just sharp, but razor sharp. It slices, it dices, and it can turn_anything_ into julienne fries.

"El Jefe. Mario, man, fucking Mario," says your guest. "But he's like, taking orders from that creepy-ass dude, Lyman. And Lyman has this fucking hard-on for you and your friends, wants you all out of the way, and that means dead, I guess."

"My fucking luck I get goddamn Raiden or whatever," he adds. "Wanted to do that lawyer dude, just to make a point, but they said, no, he's too tough, right? Took three or four cop-killers in the chest, fucking gets up and has dinner like it was an Airsoft gun."

Hitoshi takes pressure off the sword. "Now see? You answer my questions, and no more slicey-dicey, julienne human. Oh yes."

He whacks the man in the head with the flat of the blade, HARD.

"That's for your Pal's blowing up a neighborhood just to get to one of us. I'm game for you fucks trying to kill me, and I'm sure Alex is as well, but DON'T fucking bring innocents into this or we will fuck your gang so hard your ancestors one thousand years ago will say Ow. Get me? And the only reason I'm hitting you is because I can't currently hit them, I'm sure you will pass it on at some point for me. Anyways, moving on, Oh also, Raiden? No, My father is Hachiman. Raiden might be my uncle... maybe. Why is that important you might ask? I'll explain why. When I was twenty three, My best Childhood friend Akane called me. The Yakuza had her in the sex slave trade, and she needed help. anyways, she died right before my eyes. In retaliation, I killed, well I stopped counting after the first dozen, and I know there were many more before I reached the man I was actually pissed at. How many do you have in your gang?"

**__** "Blowing up a neighborhood? What the fuck are you talking about?" your house guest asks. "And fuck, you're one of them? A child of a god? Why couldn't I have gotten picked to mess with Aphrodite or something?"

"But, mano, you think you're gonna take us _all_ on? We have 'gods' on our side, too. Unless you're gonna start pulling monsters out of thin air, you got _nothing_ on Lyman."

"Dude, you must have not been at the Casino that night, I KILLED one of your so called monsters in less than thirty seconds, okay, maybe one minute, but still, it was rather easy. As for summoning monsters, yea, i'll give you that one, I can't... yet. Maybe I won't ever be able to, but if I ever can, you gotta ask yourself... Do you really want to be in the middle of two people who can do such a thing, especially when one of them is the son of the greatest Japanese God swordsman and tactician that ever was around? If I wasn't who I am, I certainly wouldn't. I'd be leaving Las Vegas pretty damn quick."

Hitoshi reached for Matty's pack of smokes and then remembers the gas all over the carpet. "Damn, just when I wanted a smoke."

He sighs. "You know, you and your whole gang are just pawns in this whole deal. Lyamn will throw you away like drops of blood off the edge of my sword. He doesn't give one fuck about you. at least I and my friends do our own dirty work."

He reached for the remote and turns on the TV to the news where it's showing the aftermath of the explosion.

"See that? That's the handiwork of your buddies. Innocents is the term, and Lyman doesn't give a fuck about them. Speaking of that, you tried to burn my house down. Did Lyman tell you I have a housemate? I do. Guess what? He's not involved in any of this; all he does is live here and pay rent. He's almost family to me. You got any Kids, or Family, Maybe a Mother you love so much? How'd you like me to go after them after I'm done with you? It's the same damn thing."


	20. That's What Friends Are For

(Evie)

Evie nods curtly. As she throws on the vest, she says, "Chief, my friends here know some first aid. They're not paramedics or anything, but I figure that we can use all the help we can get. They're good people. I trust them to do right by everyone here."

The Chief frowns for a moment. The situation is clearly dangerous, but it is also an enormous task to make a door-to-door evacuation effort.

"All right. Give them vests and flashlights," the Chief allows. "But your friends are _volunteers_ and acting of their own accord. They're responsible for their own safety, so don't take any unnecessary risks."

"Thanks, sir. Don't worry. I don't want them to wind up as crispy critters any more than you do," she nods her thanks before she moves over to the supply stash.

As she hands over the vests and flashlights, she says, "Be careful, guys. Don't try to be heroes..." and here she gives them a slight, rueful smile that clearly says _unless you have to._

"Just try to get as many people out as you can. We really appreciate all the help," she reaches out and squeezes Lya's shoulder. "Be safe."

Most of the neighborhood residents have evacuated, though there are still some stragglers trying to pack their cars and save _things,_ instead of focusing on necessities like family and pets.

"Let's go!" snapped Toxic. "Get your families and pets and evacuate! If your car doesn't start, get an officer to help!"

Protests and excuses were short-lived; the Furies would have none of it.

"The neighborhood is cordoned off," Phoebe assured them. "If they get the fire under control, then you'll be able to come back for _things_ later."

* * *

(Hitoshi)

You can tell your guest is torn between admitting he's in over his head, and the bravado dictated by allegiance, even if it's not likely to be reciprocated.

"What do you want, information? I ain't got any. I just know the word is out, it's open season on you and your friends, and this is just the beginning. Your homes, your businesses, your friends, your family ... it's all fair game."

"Info would be nice, You and your gang realizing you are pawns in a war you can't win, and deciding to leave town would be even better, but even I know that's not going to happen, so I'll settle for getting you out of the way one by one."

He reaches over for the house phone and dials 911. "I'd like to report a home invasion and attempted arson."

"Thank you for your report, Mr. Ryder," said the dispatcher. "First, Sir, are you safe?"

"Yes," Hitoshi said. "One suspect is dead, and the other one is under control."

"Sir, it could be as much as an hour before a unit is able to respond," the dispatcher said. "There's been an incident, and we have most of our resources tasked to that."

"I can wait," Hitoshi said. "We're having a little chat, my guest and I."

"Fucker's crazy! He's trying to kill me!" yelled the gang member. "Help!"

"Shut up," Hitoshi said. "If I were trying to kill you, you wouldn't be making this much noise."

"Officers are en route," the dispatcher said. "Please stay on the line."

"Sure thing."

* * *

Lya nods at Evie and gestures for a hand as she climbs up onto the roof of one of the emergency vehicles and pounds her staff on the roof loudly to get people's attention

"People of Las Vegas, hear me!" she yells out as some of the stragglers packing their cars stop to listen. "We don't know how strong we are until we are forced to realize what's truly important and bring that hidden strength forward. In times of tragedy, people do amazing things. If falling into desperation worked to make things better, then I would say, 'Let's all jump into despair.' But it doesn't help. The only way to truly find meaning is to look at the disaster, the pain, the difficulty, and know with complete certainty that good _can_ come from this!" she turns and gestures to each of the survivors she sees milling about and the rescue workers setting up triage and tents.

"Let this remind us that our things are just _things..._ and that what's truly important are the _people._ As long as we help each other survive, we can rebuild our homes and start again. As long as we don't give up on each other, those homes can become a community. The police and medical services are here to help... so please, focus on your loved ones, your families and your pets and help them receive the care they need." Lya points to the triage tents with her cane. "If you don't have anyone, there are plenty of others who could use your help too. This disaster happened to all of us... and it's only with all of us working together that we're going to get through this and come out even stronger."

There's a pause as Lya's words sink in. People who have their hands full of _stuff_ \- seem to recognize that they're worried about their material goods and less about their neighbors, some of whom are complete strangers, 'the family with the noisy kids,' or 'the guy who's always mowing his lawn.'  
It's a subtle change in focus, but an important one. Suddenly, it was a neighborhood coming together to support each other.

"Hitoshi has a couple of intruders at his house," Phoebe says. "I'll call him back in ten."

"Ten? That's slow for Hitoshi," Klepto snickered. "Pffft. He's probably keeping one alive for questioning."

"If anybody can take care of himself it's Hitoshi," Lya says as she climbs back off the roof of the vehicle to join the others. "I need to see if I can find Valeria in this mess... because if she can't give us a lead about Alex I'm not sure what to do."

She turns to Orithia. "Care to be my escort, hon? Chaos may be my thing... but I'm not about to take any chances after Lyman decided to ramp things up."

"You know I've got your back, Lya. Let's find our Valkyrie."

Even from where she is a bit away, Evei can hear Lya's voice carry over the crowd. She pauses for a moment in her work of helping an elderly lady out of her home, one arm steadying a faltering step while the other holds a squirming and panicked terrier. The detective smiles, proud of her friend. It's amazing the way Lya can rally a group and change the course of what could be ugly, frightening or chaotic, bringing folk together.

As much as Evie wants to be able to rush over to Alex's house, to look at what is or isn't there, to try and find Valeria...she knows that she can't walk away from this work. She trusts Lya and the band to find out as much as they can.

"Officer, could you please check on Mr. Wozniack?" the elderly lady asks urgently as she clings to Evie's arm. "He's at 7065. He came down with the flu last week and he's been so tired and he doesn't hear well and I'm afraid that he's still in his house..."

"Don't worry, ma'am. We're evacuating everyone. If someone hasn't already visited his house, I'll send one of my team over right away, okay?" Evie answers reassuringly.

Klepto gives Evie an 'I heard' nod and makes her way across the street with Toxic, pounding on the door of the Wozniack house.

No answer.

"Lights upstairs," Toxic said. "Kick the door in and hope he's not a home defense nut."

Klepto did so. "Mr. Wozniack? Police! Mr. Wozniack? We are evacuating the neighborhood ..."  
"I heard you! Damn, did you just kick in my front door?" a voice yelled.

"Yes, we did," Toxic said. "A gas main exploded several blocks over."

Wozniack appeared at the top of the stairs. Although he was an older man with an aging rasp to his voice, he was otherwise fit.

And in full Army uniform from what must have been VietNam. His kit was in good order.

"Thought it was the dreams again," he said. "You know. Part of you stays behind. Then I looked out the window. Ain't dying in my jammies, no, Sir. Let's go, soldier."

* * *

Valeria and her partner were much closer to the fire, affording Lya and Orithia a look at Alex's immediate neighborhood. Or, rather, the fully-involved skeleton of the single-family dwelling he owned, now nothing but blackened timbers and a wall of flames. Firefighters were working on the perimeter, trying to keep the flames from spreading to more homes.

There was the sound of one or more helicopters overhead, and Lya felt the mist of a nearby fire retardant drop.

There. Valeria was standing by a stretcher, her head bowed as she pulled a sheet over a victim's face ...  
Lya stands back and waits respectively until it looks like the Valkyrie is done with her rites for the poor soul on the stretcher. When the blonde looks up Lya steps forward with a look of sympathy... and worry.

"Valeria... I am truly sorry that we keep meeting like this, but we need your help... _Alex_ needs your help. Please... we think this horror happened to cover whatever Lyman has done to Alex. Have you or one of your sisters..." she bites her lip nervously and sighs, "...collected him?"

"I know where Alex's house is. Was," Valeria says. "But, no, he hasn't been taken to Valhalla. There may be clues or some other indication, but none of us are getting in there for at least a day, maybe two."

* * *

(Hitoshi)

If time flies when you're having fun, it must be positively crawling for the guy on the floor, who seems to regard 'officers en route' as a validation of his Miranda rights, even when you are not an officer of the law and, consequently, not obligated to observe them.

After fifteen minutes, there's a loud pounding at the door. "Mr. Ryder? Police. Please open the door."

"Okay, Pancho. I'm going to answer the door. Clasp your hands behind your head and don't. Move," you tell him.

The gang member does as he's told, probably figuring he's a hell of a lot safer with the LVPD than the son of a Japanese god. Hitoshi pauses only to take up the katana from the _daisho_ at the base of the stairs, dipping the blade in the soup of the dead man's blood. Honsho is once again a walking stick.

There are no surprises at the door, just a pair of officers, one several steps back and covering his associate at the door.

"Hitoshi Ryder?"

"Yes. Come in, officers. My surviving houseguest is in the dining room."

"Boy, I think this is going on the wall of fame," one officer remarks as he sees the headless body lying on the floor. "Seen people stabbed with swords before, but never the special haircut. Just a little off the top."

The other officer sniffed at the air. "Gasoline. Rug's pretty wet, floorboards soaked. We'll recommend a clean-up service for you, Mr. Ryder."

"Oh, hey, it's Jackie-O," quips the first cop.

"Fuck you, pig. My name is Joaquin."

"Well, okay, Mister Joaquin Orozco, you have the right to remain silent ..."

Orozco was Mirandized and cuffed, then taken out to the patrol car. "Coroner is on the way for the other one. CSI, too, just a formality. Sit out back while we take your statement, so we can stop breathing gasoline fumes?"

Your statement is concise and straightforward. Heard a noise, went to investigate, grabbed the katana from the stand, confronted the first man, then the second. CSI arrives to take photos, the katana (but not Honsho) is confiscated for forensic examination.

"Crazy night," says one officer. "Look, until this is cleaned up, you probably won't want to stay here. Red Cross has a shelter for the gas main evacuees, you can take advantage of that."

Hitoshi shrugs.

"I can open enough windows to air this place out when the crime guys are done, and they didn't touch the upstairs. However, I think I need new carpet and a paint job, I was thinking something in red. Yea, that's gonna take a while. Guess I could check that place out and help out where needed." He makes the grim joke without so much as missing a beat.

"Oh, I will be getting my Katana back right? It is a two thousand dollar blade. Do I need to sign paperwork or something?"

"I'm afraid we don't hand out receipts, but, yes, you will get your property back. It's a formality. You confronted an intruder in your home, there won't be any questions," said the officer. "And we have Jackie-O, with gasoline all over his hands, shoes, and clothes."

He glances over at the television, where wall-to-wall coverage of the 'breaking news' continues.  
"What a mess. Yeah, I'm sure the Red Cross will take donations, even volunteers," he adds.

Hitoshi nods. "Alright then. I'll get dressed and head over." He looks at the house.

"If that's okay with you officer, so long as I stay out of the dining room I mean.'

The officer takes one more look around the crime scene. He gets a nod from the CSI team, who have documented everything from the point-of-entry (the patio window) to the mostly-empty gasoline canisters.

"You're free to go, Mr. Ryder. Find some place that doesn't smell like the Esso station, I guess. Call that cleaning company in the morning, they'll take care of things," he says. "Good night."

Matt waits until the police have left. "Hitoshi, what's going on? What did you do to piss these punks off so badly?"

"Matty, I kicked them out of the diner because they were being asshats. Now they apparently have it in for me." Hitoshi shrugs.

"Anyways, Lya needs me so I'm going to grab a shower and go meet her." He heads up stairs and picks up his phone.

"Hmm I should call Phoebe back. Matty, I suggest a hotel room for you for a couple days."

He hits redial and waits for Phoebe to pick up.

* * *

"Mr. Wozniack!" the elderly lady waves to the man from where she stands with Evie, just by one of the checkpoints that is funneling evacuees out.

Klepto and Toxic see that he is fine and on his way, allowing him to go on unescorted as he moves to meet his friend. Approaching, he says, "Miss Hathaway. Glad to see that you got out okay. How's your knee?"

"Oh, I'm fine, dear. This nice officer helped me out. Oh, but I can't wait for this stupid thing to heal! I swear, it feels like it's been forever since the operation and it's still stiff," she sighs and looks back at the billowing smoke that roils over the neighborhood, worry and sadness creasing her face. "And, now this..."

Evie nods to Mr. Wozniack, handing over both Miss Hathaway and her dog to his care. From the looks of him, she's betting that he is more than capable of making sure they are both out safely, Besides, there are more officers here directing people out, "You two take care of each other. I have more houses to check. Be safe." She smiles and gives Miss Hathaway a small hug. As she turns to go back out, nods respectfully to the old soldier and says, "Sir."

"Well at least we know he's not dead... and if he's not dead that means there's still hope, right?" Lya replies reassuringly. "Chances are they created this mess to cover that up and stop people from looking for him. Too bad for them they didn't know who they were dealing with," she winks before turning around to look at the worst of the blaze down the street.

"I take it his place was over there?" she scratches her head as she looks around at the buildings that were on the street. "I wonder if there were any bank or traffic cameras that could've caught anything..."

"Officer Cartwright might be able to help with that," Orithia replies.

* * *

(Lya)

You can feel the heat spilling from the hellish, chaotic scene.

"Pull back, pull back!" the urgent call goes out over the radio. "All units, fall back NOW!"

There's a creaking, groaning sound, then a rumble as several of the fire-engulfed homes collapse inward, displaced air sending a burst of flame-veined smoke and searing embers outward.

"Be easier if the water mains on the east side weren't down!" someone complains.

"Bring in the earth movers," you hear the order, and you realize the fire department is getting ready to demolish several homes to have a fighting chance at saving others.

(Evie)

There are other small crises as residents proceed with the evacuation. A child, feared lost, who had calmly gone to their tree house to gather a very large stuffed bear named (ironically) Thor. Several fender benders as people hurried to get clear. And a round-robin of burglar and smoke alarms.

Just another day's work, right?

Surprisingly, it's the better part of two hours (and well after midnight) before evacuation efforts - along with a secondary sweep by patrol cars with lights and sirens - are completed, and you are able to regroup with Lya and the Furies.

"Oh that does it... that fucking does it..." Lya mutters as she paces back and forth outside one of the tents and wipes the soot off her cheek with the back of her hand. "If I see that bastard again I'm going to show him just what a child of Chaos can do!"

Evie waves to some of the other officers as they finish up and moves to greet Lya when she's halted by Toxic. "You might want to let her get this out first... she's not too happy."

"Damn right I'm not happy! I was not angry since I came to France until this instant!" Lya growls as Klepto looks at her with a raised eyebrow. "What... so I read Shakespeare, ok? Anyway..." she's about to turn and pace again when she sees Evie standing by Toxic and walks up to her.

"Evie! You wouldn't believe what I heard... the water mains on the East Side just _happened_ to be damaged during the fire... and if you think that's a coincidence then I've got a bridge to sell you." She grabs her flask out of her coat pocket and takes a long drink. "So of course they had to bulldoze the buildings to contain the fire... which would be awfully convenient for somebody who just _happened_ to be into real estate development, ya know? Grrr! All those people... I can't believe he did that to all those people..."

"Breathe, hon..." Klepto advises as she squeezes Lya's shoulder.

Lya takes another drink and then a deep breath that she lets out slowly. "Anyway... I found Valeria, and the one bit of good news I got out of all this is that when I talked to her Alex was still alive. Tell me you've got some good news to share? I could really use something positive right now."

Evie pulls over a cooler that had held drinks and snacks for those helping in the evacuation and sits on it. She rubs a hand over her face, further smearing the soot and dirt there. She shakes her head, "I don't have any news. I'm afraid I was too busy trying to get people out of harm's way to do much investigating...though..."

The detective looks up, a grin on her face, "Technically, I'm back on duty until the Chief remembers that I'm supposed to be on leave. This seems like the prefect opportunity for me to use HQ resources before he kicks my butt back out, again."

"I have a make, model and license plate of the accomplice who hit my apartment. Oh, yeah...I guess I didn't mention there were two of them. I offed the one and the other was waiting as getaway. I also have the dead one's Bluetooth, but I'm not sure what I can do with it. The two of them were talking and I did hear the other's voice," she pauses and thinks. "Did Alex mention anything happening in his neighborhood a few weeks ago?"

"Speaking of Alex, when was the last time any of us talked to him? I know that he's been super busy with Charles' case."

Lya looks almost sheepish as she gestures with her flask towards Evie who smiles and shakes her head. "Afraid I've been busy with charity shows lately what with the holidays and all. Think the last time I saw him is when we all got together before Christmas."

She runs her hand through her hair. "I don't suppose there were any traffic cameras, banks, shops or overly paranoid home owners who might've had security cameras going on this street? If Alex were here I'd ask him about companies expressing interest in permits and buying the property..." she chews on her nail for a moment. "Speaking of properties... hey Phoebe, you get a hold of Hitoshi yet?"

"Apparently he had a bit of excitement at his place that he had to take care of and now he's on his way over," Phoebe replies with a relieved sigh.

"Thank the Gods," Lya sighs. "Sometimes I hate the fact that I don't have the connections and combat skills that you and Hitoshi have, Evie."

"You've got a different kind of connection, Lya," Evie replies. "You connect with the everyday people out there and bring them together while Lyman's trying to tear them apart... _that's_ your gift."

"Maybe it's the people we should be asking, then?" Lya wonders out loud. "A lot of them are here at the emergency shelters... maybe now would be a good time to gently question people and see if anyone saw Alex, or anything weird before the explosion."

Evie thinks about it for a second, "I'll have to see if there are...were...any businesses in this area that may have cameras."

"Actually," she says, her eyes lighting up, "there was one Mr. Wozniak who was evacuated. He's an older gentleman who was dressed in his military uniform when he left. I'm betting that he would be the sort to notice anything amiss in his neighborhood. Toxic and Klepto went to his house, so they'll be able to point him out."

She sighs and shakes her head, "I'm glad that Hitoshi is okay. And, honestly, I'm kind of surprised that things have gotten so bad so fast. I mean...it seems like Lyman had everything set up to take car of Hitoshi in a more subtle way. I didn't know what he had planned for us but...this?" Evie gestures to the destruction. "This, I didn't expect for awhile yet. I figured it would happen eventually, just...not now? Ya know?"

"Why is Lyman pushing so hard, all of a sudden?" she muses.

"Mr. North?" says one woman. "I saw him when I was walking my dog, just before ... before ... oh, god, he was home, and right in the middle of it!"

It takes more than a few minutes to calm the woman down, and even then, she's still shaking from believing she was the last person to see Alex, and from the knowledge that her own life was saved by walking her dog.

It's another neighbor who says there was an unusual rumbling sound just before the explosion.  
"... it wasn't unusual, with all the work that's been going on, but the utility guys work eight-to-four, so they're not waking people up or banging around during the dinner hour. Sounded just like when they're breaking up the pavement, bang, crunch, grind. Rinse, lather, repeat."

"If it was one of those hopped up Lobos banging in the street you'd think somebody would've seen it," Lya muses. "Maybe they were underground or something? That certainly would allow them to cover up kidnapping Alex and making look like he died in the explosion..."

She makes a sound of frustration and slaps her thigh. "It seems like we're always _reacting_ to Lyman instead of being proactive. I'm no Norse Scion, though... so you've got me when it comes to this whole Ragnarok business. Maybe if we had a better idea of how it's supposed to happen we could fit it together with what Lyman is doing and try to think ahead?"

Klepto pats Lya's shoulder and smiles reassuringly. "We'll figure it out and one way or another there will be a reckoning. Toxic and I will go find Mr. Wozniak and question him."

"Ok... when I see Hitoshi I need to ask him if his business contacts might get us any information about the construction that was going on and if it's connected to Lyman. If he's connected and it's been going on for months, then maybe he was down there for more than just gas mains, you know?"

* * *

(Alex)

"That really smells good. Making me hungry," Alex admitted. SERE training had taught him if it was a choice between eating and starving, you could eat anything. Even rat.

"Share some?"

"Share?" Surt says. "Mine. Go away."

"Not even a little?"

The troll tore off a thin strip of stringy meat and threw it on a grimy paper plate.

"Eat," he said.

"My hands are tied," Alex said.

Surt laughed. "Like wolf. Eat."

Alex grudgingly knelt down and managed to sink his teeth into the scrap of meat. He tried to tell himself it would be like venison, or rabbit. Unusual, but not unpalatable. No such luck. It was gamey and tough, and it was several minutes of chewing before he could choke it down.

The troll poured a little beer onto the plate. "Aesir drink."

At least it was good beer. A nice nutty flavor. More importantly, it took some of the taste of rat out of his mouth.

Surt was otherwise uninterested in him. He could apparently lie on the floor or thrash about. The only way out was through a hatch at the top of a ladder, another incentive to want one's hands free. Which landed him back at the do-I-break-my-chains dilemma. Not to mention having to go three rounds in a cage fight with Surt afterwards ...

* * *

Evie shares Lya's frustration. She's not entirely sure what to do or how to be proactive, either. She frowns and heaves a sigh, "Well, from what I have gathered, things will start to be at their worst when people stop caring, when they are afraid, when they give in to despair and selfishness. This is when Ragnarock and start to take hold."

She smiles at Lya, "And that is where your gift comes in. You ease people's hearts and minds. You bring them together. You can heal spirits. You help us fight back the tide of apathy."

"But, more immediately..." Evie continues, "Alex and I found out that Lyman has been gathering an army of Einjehar. Who knows how long he's been building it up? Who knows how big it is? But, he's been performing the rituals to bind them to his cause and I have no idea how to counter that."

She pauses and thinks for a minute, "Why don't I take a walk around the neighborhood and see what I see? I figure any clues about what happened to Alex have been obliterated between the fire, hundreds of footsteps and heavy equipment. However...if they are underground, there must be an entrance somewhere, right?"

"Yeah... an entrance..." Lya agrees as she gazes at the fiery remnants of Alex's apartment down the street and then turns back to Evie. "How much do you want to bet that the entrance and escape route for these guys is in that mess?"

Orithia looks at the fire and then back at Lya who is gripping her staff tight as her gaze keeps flickering back to the apartment. "Oh no...no-no-no-no... you are not about to do what I think you're about to do."

"You know it would work, Ortithia..." Lya replies. "As long as I just look, I should be fine."

The blonde shakes her head. "That works for rowdy concerts... but collapsing buildings that are on fire? Lya...you still need to breathe."

"Then see if one of these big strong firemen would be willing to share their equipment, Orithia," Lya responds as she stares her down.

"Damn it... they're going to kill me for letting you do this..." the blonde mutters before walking away. "I'll get your damn mask...can't stop you anyway..."

"Lya..." Evie asks with growing concern. "What are you going to do?"

Lya turns to Evie with a half-smile. "I'm going to go in there and find our entrance."

Evie gives a curt nod and says, "What do you need for me to do?" She is ready to back up Lya in any way that she may need.

"Well... I might need your help to be able to get past everyone to get in there, and maybe if we had some walkie-talkies or something we could keep in contact in case something happens?"

* * *

"I appreciate the extra effort, Cartwright, but I want to emphasize again - no heroics," the Chief said. Then, more quietly, he adds, "I want to say, 'good luck,' but you and I both know Alex North is probably on the crispy side of well-done. Still, I'd do the same for any of my people. You're a good cop, Evie."

Word filters through the grapevine, and a firefighter offers his gear to Evie - not realizing that it will be Lya risking the flames.  
"Building is pretty much collapsed, so you don't have to worry about a backdraft," he says. "Don't wear anything synthetic - polyester, nylon, all that stuff will go up in a flash. Intercom is voice-operated, just talk and we'll hear you. Use your last name as an ID, and our people are fine with ten-codes*"

It doesn't take long for Lya to suit up.

"Thing weighs a ton," she says, hefting the oxygen tank.

"I am your father, **breathe**" Klepto says from behind her hand as Lya dons the breath mask.

"Trust your divine blood, Lya," Toxic says.

"Ok... I can do this," Lya tells herself before grasping her staff and whispering, "Έχω την αφή ... έχω τη δύναμη ... με όλα κόλαση να ξεσπάσει Θα είμαι στο μάτι του κυκλώνα." Small carvings of runes glow briefly on the staff before fading back into the stained wood. Lya then hands the staff to Phoebe who helps her strap it to her underneath the fireman's suit.

"This is Cartwright testing the coms and preparing to enter the building, 10-4," Lya says activating the intercom.

"Roger, we receive you Cartwright. Good luck and God speed."

"You get through this and we're going to have a hell of a story to share at the bar," Klepto says as she does a final look over the suit to make sure everything is ready to go. "Be careful."

"Hey... it's me!" Lya winks.

At first, you're unsure if it's adrenaline or your ability to dance through the eye of the storm that makes time dilate. Flames continue to lick, and the heat is undeniable ... but everything is moving in slow motion ...

"Okay, I've seen Lya dance through crowds before, but that was totally freaky weird," Orithia said. "She's dodging sheets of flame."

... and you feel alive, the high that comes with a perfect set on stage. There's a disquieting moment where you glimpse Dionysius' face in the smoke, and then it turns into someone else ... something else. Still a face, but not one you are familiar with, although there's no open menace - simply curiosity.

Even collapsed, there is enough of the house's framework to recognize the entryway, the living room, the gaping hole where the dining room and kitchen should have been ...

"Dance into the fire, when all we see... is a view to a kill..." Lya sings to herself to try and keep calm. "If you are a spirit or god of fire I mean no disrespect to your creation... I'm just looking for my friend," Lya calls out to the flames before twisting around and ducking through an opening in the fire to move closer to the edge of the hole and get a better look.

"This is Cartwright... I'm in the house and there's definitely a large gaping hole in the ground in the dining room/kitchen area. I'm going to move closer and try to get a better look. 10-4."

This isn't just a spot where the floor collapsed. A portion of the foundation has been knocked loose, the floor now sloping down into a roughly-hewn trench that isn't on any of the utility or city planning maps.

You venture just a few steps in, but aren't reckless enough to explore further without the others being present. The tunnel broadens into a much larger space, pushing at the boundaries of the property.

The damage here is not as great, though the walls of the space are blackened, and everything within is burned. You can tell several refectory-size tables were laid out here. Globs of melted metal suggest the presence of plates and goblets, as if there'd been a banquet or feast.

Wait.

An invitation. An offering made to summon Einjehar from Valhalla. Lyman's army. Hidden under the home of another Aesir, where no one would think to look ...

* * *

(Hitoshi)

Phoebe picks up on the third ring.

"Phoebe, it's Hitoshi," you tell her. "The house is a mess. One man is dead, a second is in police custody. Surprise, he was a member of the Wolf Pack, and admits to knowing about Lyman."

"We are at war, then," she says.

"I'd expect to hear that from Toxic."

"All of us knew this day would come," she said. "Sooner than we'd thought, or wanted. But not saying it won't make it less so."

"Where are you now?"

"Rally point near Alex's house. Lya's exploring the wreckage now, oh, you should have seen it, Hitoshi. It was beautiful!"

Hitoshi scratches his head. "Umm what exactly was beautiful, and please tell me someone went with Lya. She's not the fighter you gals are and if she's doing something alone that I would normally do alone I am going to worry. "

"You know how she can move through a crowd untouched?" Phoebe asks. "She did it with the fire. We're in radio contact with her, everything is fine."

"Radio contact, okay, I'm less worried, but only a little. Alright then, I'm going to take a shower to get the blood off and then head out to meet you all. Sadly, I doubt the crime scene cleaners can save the carpet." He heads into the bathroom and turbo on the shower so it can warm up.

"Anything else I need to know?" He pauses in the middle of stripping off his clothes as Phoebe's words hit him.

"Wait, what do you mean she did it with fire?"

"She walked through the fire like it was a screaming crowd," Phoebe said. "Nothing touched her. Not the flames, not debris. She embraced her divine power and became it."

* * *

"I knew it!" Lya says to herself as she climbs back up and slowly makes her way back out of the hole.

"This is Cartwright, and I've definitely found something. There's a giant hole in the dining room leading to what looks like was a chamber underneath the home. I didn't want to go any farther by myself, but my gut tells me there's a good chance they took Alex out underground and unobserved. Going to take one last quick look around and head back out. 10-4."

A quick estimate tells you a hundred guests could be seated at a time. And, like Spaarti, warriors born of dragon's teeth, it wouldn't take much to amass a sizeable army. Certainly, hollowing out this space wasn't for half-measures.

An explosion and fire would reduce this to nothing more than a blast crater. But how do you move hundreds of soldiers to wherever?

"Shit...I wonder if this all connects to the storm-drain tunnels?" Lya wonders. "That would certainly let them move around unnoticed... and with all the homeless that live down there I bet they've got no shortage of volunteers. I've got to ask Evie if we can get a map..."

A part of you clucks disapprovingly at having lost touch with your 'roots,' though the days of living on the street and sleeping huddled around makeshift fires or riding the bus weren't exactly an idyllic childhood. You knew enough to avoid the pimps looking for new girls to exploit.

But this is a new threat, one that plays to a much broader audience, the poor and disenfranchised. You probably couldn't use them as a serious paramilitary force, but as cannon fodder? Oh, yes.

"By the time I'm done with him he's not only going to suffer the fate of his father... it's going to be broadcast as part of my pay-per-view special where all the proceeds go to helping the homeless!" Lya growls as the abuse Lyman has caused to the homeless and destitute makes her blood start to boil more than the flames surrounding her. "It's time to put an end to this and make things right..."

She turns from the hole in the ground with clenched fists and walks through the fire, her rage practically daring the flames to get in her way.

* * *

(Hitoshi)

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Okay then. Wow. Alright, I'll be there soon."

With that he hops in the shower and removes the blood. Fine minutes later he's in his car (With Honjo Masamune) and on his way.

You aren't normally inclined to flaunt your powers, but in this case ...

"I'm here to see Detective Cartwright. You will let me pass."

"Yeah, sure," says the officer, waving you past the cordon. "She's over at ground zero, you're going to have to park by the Mobile Command Post and hoof it several blocks, unless one of the fire crews lets you hitch a ride."

* * *

(Lya)

"Perhaps a bit rash, but I'm still proud of you. I think your father would be as well," Toxic says after you emerge from the flames, unscathed. That isn't to say you relish the oxygen-tinged-with-sweat smell of the facemask, or the smell of smoke that's going to cling to you and your clothes.

"What did you see, Lya?" Evie asks.

"I had to do something, Toxic... I can't just stand by and let him keep doing this," she whispers as the redhead Amazon squeezes her shoulder in comfort.

Lya runs a hand through her sweaty hair and takes a long drink from her flask. "Glad you finally made it, Hitoshi... you should hear this too," she says with a nod as the others murmur greetings.

"There wasn't just a hole in there... there was a _huge_ hole, and it led to a cavern with what was looks like was once a large dining area with metal dishes. These tables were long and set for lots of people. _Lots_ of people, Evie... and they weren't drinking the latest wines from the Valley if you get me. _He's building a fucking army down there!"_ she hisses angrily before starting to pace.

"Not only that... but I'll bet my staff that cavern is going to connect with the storm-drain tunnels where all the homeless have been taking shelter lately. He takes everything from them...destroys their lives...then gives them no alternative but to drink his Kool-Aid and hand over their souls for his army of cannon fodder."

(pace-pace-turn)

"Valeria said there was nothing we could do for people who have gone through the rites for the Jotunblut. The Lobos are one thing, but I don't want to fight a bunch of innocent people who had no choice left in the world, Hitoshi. I...I don't know if I can do it."

"War is never easy, Lya..." Toxic replies. "It forces us to make the difficult decisions for the greater good."

"Let us focus on the life that can still be saved," offers Phoebe. "Do you think we should go down there and look for Alex?"

Evie's stomach does a flip-flop. It's one thing to hear from some long dead lackey that Lyman is building an army. It's another to have the proof right there under your nose.

Her lips pressed tight in a mixture of anger and fear, Evie moves to help Lya out of the protective clothing. She is just as angry as Lya about this, if not quite for the same reasons. She has no personal connection to the homeless, but they are still her charges. These are still the people that she swore to protect and serve when she took up the mantle of police officer.

She pauses for as second as she puts aside the fireproof clothing before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, I think we need to go after Alex. Even though I am inclined to not leave any friend behind, it goes beyond that. I think it's going to take all of us to stop this."

"Thomas couldn't do it by himself when he was faced with Lyman's plans. I don't think we'll have any more luck without all of us, either."

Hitoshi puts his arm around Lya. "I don't expect you to do the dark stuff Lya. When the time comes, I'll do what must be done. I already have blood on my hands, a little more isn't going to make any difference. Better that those souls see a quick death than to be controlled and used for horrible things by Lyman."

He gives Lya a squeeze.

"Oh Evie, that reminds me, do you know a good cleaners? My living and dining rooms are covered in blood and gasoline thanks to two members of the Lobos gang."

* * *

After the piece of rat or whatever it was, Alex got to his feet and paced across the room, getting a rough idea of the dimensions. Surt didn't seem to care, tending to his own needs, which were mostly quaffing beer and belching loudly. Oh, and an epic piss that encouraged Alex to lean against the wall instead of sit on the ground.

"Surt, do you know who I am?" Alex asked.

"Son of Tyr. Now shut up or I hurt you," the troll answered. "Laufeyson says you heal fast, so I can punish you if you act bad."

"Not really a fair fight," Alex sneered. "Me with my hands tied behind my back."

"Surt not stupid."

"Okay, just for fun. My hands still tied," Alex chuckled. "Never wrestled a troll. Two out of three falls, say?"

"Surt just hit you hard so you stop talking."

"Gotta catch me first," Alex grinned. _In for a penny ..._

For a creature often depicted as slow and plodding, Surt moved pretty fast. It was like staring down the defensive line in a football game. They might not be fast, but they could make you pay for every yard.

Alex dodged. A stand-up fight wasn't an option; he had to fight dirty ...

(Flashback)

_"Come on, Ell-tee. You have to do better'n that!" Major Corwin scoffed as one of his MP's let the young lieutenant out of an armlock. "Again. Corporal Hathaway is going to go for a chokehold, North."_

_Alex squared off with Hathaway, who was the same height, but had the wiry definition of a long-distance runner._

_"Say goodnight, Gracie," Hathaway quipped. He moved, an apparent spear-hand to a nerve cluster in the upper arm. Alex dodged ..._

_... and found himself over-extending at a feint. Hathaway slipped behind him and brought an arm around his throat. Alex knew what he should do, tuck his chin down to take the pressure, but that thought was several lifetimes ago and he couldn't breathe ..._

(End flashback)

Okay. First things first. Alex dodged to one side of the low table where Surt's mug was sitting, hit it with a kick to send it flying towards the troll. Surt roared, but Alex doubted he'd been hurt - he was probably angry the Son of Tyr had deprived him of his beer.

Alex hoped he could do what Hathaway and Corwin had showed him years ago, jumping to bring his knees up close to his chest as his arms came forward ...

... his heel caught on the chain, and he fell to the ground. But with a slight effort, he had his hands before him, and a few more options. Alex rolled to one side as Surt smashed the table on the ground beside him, then scrambled to his feet.

The troll gave a gap-toothed smile, took a step back. He held his arms out as if anticipating Alex's next move.

Alex glanced down at his bonds. Chain. No wire, just a bit of nylon twine, a reminder of Sleipnir. Speaking of which, it was odd. He was still wearing his ring and bracelet, and he doubted Lyman would steal his challenge coin while leaving the other gifts behind.

He strained. Nothing cut into his flesh. A sharp and sudden pull. The chains didn't break outright, but the links had begun to distend. Just a little more effort ...

* * *

Evie nods, "Yeah. We always recommend the folks over at Harrison Cleaning to people in your situation. They do a good job of getting up the nastier stuff."

"I guess the first thing to do would be to get a map of the sewers, right? It seems like the best way to get to the tunnels that Lyman has dug. We should be able to get those through the Office of Sewage and Wastewater," she says.

"Thanks, Hitoshi," Lya says with a wry grin, "but just because you've dipped yourself in blood doesn't mean you should go swimming in it on a daily basis. I do worry about you sometimes."

"Speaking of Thomas," Lya says to Evie as she gets the last of the fire suit off, "He could be a big help with searching those tunnels, you know? Is there any way you could contact him, Evie?"

"Gah... feels so good to get all of that off," she mutters as she shakes out her hair. "So if we can get those maps and some flashlights, maybe we can find an entrance near here that will connect us with where I found without us having to go through that fire again. We need to find Alex and hopefully we can stop him from destroying any more lives for his benefit.

They say Ragnarok is fated to happen... but that doesn't mean we abandon our friends or let scumbags benefit from it."

"Damn straight," Klepto agrees as the other Furies nod their heads. "If Lyman is in such a hurry for the end times, I say we deliver it to him personally."

* * *

(Alex)

Surt charged, and Alex was out of time. He made as if he were bracing, then sidestepped around and behind the troll, leaping onto his back, racing to work his arms around Surt's neck before he could be tossed chains made it harder, because he couldn't execute the textbook move and had to hope he could exert enough leverage to choke anything, least of all a troll.

"Hurrrr," grunted his opponent. The troll whipped from side to side, but failed to shake him loose.  
Then he simply slammed his back into the wall, knocking the wind out of Alex. As Alex wheezed, the troll gave a coarse laugh, taking a few steps forward to do it again.

Alex strained. Oddly, he thought back to the moment in the diner where he'd laid a hand on that one gang member, and the kid looked like he'd been caught in a hydraulic press. And all he'd done was put his hand on the kid's shoulder with the intent to restrain him.

"Trust your divine blood," Orithia had told him.

He made a renewed effort. He braced as Surt slammed him into the wall again, and then a third time. But he wouldn't relent.

The troll was no longer laughing, but making agitated gargling noises. He scrabbled at Alex's arm, but because of the chains binding them, couldn't pull Alex off.

"Guff ... stupid Aesir," Surt gasped as he sank to his knees, then toppled forward.

Alex maintained the chokehold until the troll's form went slack. He pulled away and saw the extensive bruising on the creature's throat; he'd really dug in. Surt was still breathing, however, so he hadn't killed him outright.

Back to the chains. He strained, and the welds of several links snapped. He was free.

And trapped at the bottom of a cistern.

* * *

(Lya, Hitoshi, Evie)

Because of the danger of flash floods, the storm drains run throughout the underside of Las Vegas. An entrance to the system cannot be far off, but it seems like the space beneath Alex's house was excavated - perhaps, in part, when there was a 'gas leak' that forced the evacuation of the neighborhood some months back. Finding where that space and the storm drain connect will be more problematic, but not impossible - fresh concrete and/or a locked gate or door will be fairly evident, even with the abundance of graffiti and tagging down below.

"All right... so we're going to need the map, some flashlights, a sledgehammer or two and some bolt cutters just in case we run into any obstacles, Jotunblut or otherwise," Lya says to the others.

"I figure while Evie digs up the map maybe Hitoshi can get us the gear and I can go to the closest shelter here and see if anybody who was recently evacuated might be able to help us locate where we need to start looking."

(Evie)

Evie checks with the firefighters, and the maps are available via a ruggedized tablet, of which the department has several.

"Just don't get lost down there," the chief advises. "Unless you have a map, or know how to read the markings - and some of those are covered by tagging - you can get turned around really easy."

(Hitoshi)

All of the tools Lya suggested are available at the garage. You are able to gather everything up and return within an hour.

(Lya)

The Red Cross shelter is a set of tents filling the parking lot of a nearby strip mall. The smell of smoke is still heavy on the air, while elsewhere, the lights of the Strip tell you the rest of Vegas is ticking along as it always has.

Because the Red Cross doesn't ask questions before handing out blankets or ponchos, there are a handful of transients in the queue. You recognize them more by manner and dress than by name.

"Hey... did that damn explosion effect everyone in the tunnels too?" Lya asks casually as she stands aside the line, making sure people don't think she's cutting in front of them. "I remember having to keep moving because of the rain being bad enough... now people have to worry about fire, too."

(Lya)

"Yeah, lotta smoke and runoff from the fire hoses. Nothing like a flash flood, but it got kind of swampy in parts," says one young man. "For a bit, sounded like the place was gonna cave in, so I scooped up my shit, grabbed Tawny, and we got the fuck outta there."

The young girl standing next to him doesn't say much. "Wait. You're her, you're her! Oh, cool!"  
"Say what?" her boyfriend asks.

"Dude, you don't recognize her? It's Lya, Lya and the Fur- holy shit!" she says, catching sight of Toxic standing nearby.

"Heh...yeah, that's us," Lya chuckles. "I heard what had happened to the people with the fire, and since I've spent my share of time in the tunnels I thought I'd try and find out what happened... see what I can do to help, you know? Not to mention that the fire took out my friend's house."

She pulls out a band photo and Sharpie from her jacket and motions for Toxic to come over so she can use her back to start signing the photo. "So... if I wanted to go check out what happened in that part of the tunnels... do you think you could tell me how to find it without getting lost?" Lya hands the picture to Toxic to sign and motions for the other Furies to follow suit.

"You wanna go down there? Really? I mean, the acoustics are nice, kinda churchy," the girl said. "But there's a lot of pain down there, too. The rejects and the drop-outs and the forgotten ones. Kids who run away from too-strict parents - we get a lot of those - and the homeless. Not enough shelters or services for anyone."

"There's always someone playing tourist," the boyfriend sneers. "Photographers, pushers, pimps, priests. Just the other day, there was this guy looking for people who wanted to fight back, who had the 'fire.' Most of the kids we know said no, and passed the word up the line. Turns out he's some kind of money dude, fancy car, bodyguards ... but he's into something shady, too, maybe drugs."

Hitoshi walks up. "The fire eh? What did this man look like? Did you or your friends get a good look at him?" He's got his cane in one hand, and a pair of bolt cutters in the other.

"I used to be one of those kids running away from their parents," Lya replies. "My friends and I want to help if we can... and the only way to know is if we check it out first hand."

She looks worriedly at the boyfriend. "I've heard of this rich guy too... he tried to hit up people at one of my concerts with this drug he called 'Jolting Blue' that fucked people up more than a bad batch of PCP that doesn't go away."

She bites her lip and shakes her head sadly. "I saw this poor guy living in a box on the street because the shelters had to kick him out before he hurt people. Do me a favor and start spreading the word to avoid this rich guy ok? I heard his name is Lyman... and he's dangerous."

She hands the signed photo to the couple with a gentle smile. "We face enough troubles as it is."

"There was just something off about him, man," said the boyfriend. "More'n a few of us are down here because we're rebels, yeah, but we're rebelling against a system that has too many people like _him_. Suits like our parents, teachers who can't teach, politicians who want to make it _our_ fault."

"Kind of creepy looking. Not creepy ugly freak show, but you could see it in his eyes, the corner of the mouth smile," the girl adds. "Thinks he knows it all."

"Look, it's simple. I'm here 'cause Tawny's folks didn't care about her. They wanted a perfect church choir daughter, couldn't see her for what she is," the boyfriend says. "Ain't gonna let some pimp exploit her, or any of the other kids down here."

Evie waits back by the tents for Lya and Hitoshi to return, now that she has the maps. She knows full well that she won't be doing anyone any favors by butting in speaking with the homeless who have wandered in to take advantage of the free food and blankets. As much as it pains her, the police aren't always looked upon kindly...and it infuriates her that there are cops that deserve that reaction.

"More power to you, man," Lya says with a smile as she pulls two $20s out of her jacket and hands it to him. "Just because the higher ups don't care doesn't mean we stop looking after each other. I think there might be some people down there in that area of the tunnels suffering because of the crap Lyman is spreading... and I want to make sure they get don't get forgotten. Any marks or signs I should look for so I don't get lost down there?"

He fishes in his pocket and hands you a scrap of parchment that's made out like a business card, with a name, cell phone number, and an icon that looks like a shooting star.

"You see my tag, my art, that's my turf. And my people will help you if they can," he says. "You can call me Arky, RK. Russ Keller."

"Much appreciated, Arky," Lya replies as she fishes out her own card. "The same goes for me and the Furies. You guys ever need help, come to one of our shows or give me a call."

* * *

(Alex)

He patted down Surt's pockets for keys, tokens, anything of use. A cardboard box held more of the rat jerky, and there were a couple of bottles of beer. But he had no place to carry much of anything. He was wearing his slacks, and a now-torn and grimy dress shirt. No shoes, just thin dress socks that wouldn't be of much use.

That left the climb to the top of the cistern, up a ladder made of welded rebar. The climb was more like a workout at the gym than hanging Christmas lights on the roof trim, and he was feeling a mild burn as he reached the narrow catwalk at the top ...

Not that a wrestling match with a troll was 'easy,' but for an evening that had begun with Lyman's goons bursting out of the floor and dragging him off to wherever this was ... a simple watertight hatchway said 'too easy,' and made Alex pause.

He listened. There were sounds - distant conversation, tools on metal or rock, but nothing to suggest any of it was just outside the door.

He spun the wheel, wincing at the creak the door made as he inched it open, but there were no warning bells or cries of alarm.

Just a rough-hewn corridor, a long, uneven tunnel hewn through the earth, and sloping downward ...

* * *

Lya and Hitoshi return to Evie with tools in hand. "All right, I think I've got us some leads on where to go down in the tunnels and Hitoshi got us the tools... so if you've got the maps Evie, we can get started."

"Right. Let's get going," Evie angles the borrowed tablet so that the others can see as she pulls up the maps. "It looks like the nearest entrance is here...and, these tunnels are the ones that pass closest to Alex's house. Our starting point is somewhere around there, i would imagine."

"Once we get in, hopefully, I can find and follow a trail. My gift lets me analyze crime scenes, so...maybe it will let me be able to see small signs of passage, things that others might not notice in a mostly stone environment. If Alex is hurt, maybe there's some blood...bits of fiber from clothing...hair...that sort of thing."

"I got some advice from an artist who used to live down there who gave me his card. He told me to look for his art and symbols on the walls and those will lead us to where they were hearing all the noises and banging around down there." Lya scratches her head. "Figure it's somewhere to start, right?"

* * *

Alex came upon the trio as they were arguing over blueprints.

"No, no, and no, rock-for-brains. Shit," said one. "Need to shore things up here and here before you dig out that spur, or the whole thing collapses."

"I thought _he_ was supposed to do that," said a second.

"Me? I've been laying stone for the armory. Fuck off," came the retort. "Besides ... oh. Company."

"Company?" asked the first. He looked up, saw Alex. "Oh. It's the Aesir. You didn't leave us a dead troll to clean up, did you?"

"Excuse me? Who are you?"

"I'm Hrogar, and those two are Hjalf and his twin brother, Hjolf."

Alex fought back a laugh. "Pleased to meet you. What are you doing down here?"

"What's it look like, Einstein?"

"Excavating something big," Alex said. "You doing this for Lyman?"

"I'm doing this because I'm getting paid," Hrogar snorted. "That's how shit gets built, y'know."

"Like what?" Alex asked, hoping to draw the cynical dwarf out.

"Like I don't know, so I can't tell you. I'm getting paid. If a client wants a fucking trapeze in the bedroom, we put one in."

"A trapeze in the bedroom? Really?"

"No, not really. Not for Laufeyson. Guy's got other kinks, not my place to talk about 'em," Hrogar said.  
"So how do I get topside?"

"Nuh-uh. Ain't paid to babysit, but you gotta talk to _her_ before you leave," said Hrogar.

"Her. Soleil?"

"So-who? No, no, no. _Her,"_ said Hrogar. "Fuck. Don't make me hold your hand, Aesir."

Alex still had no clue as to whom the dwarf was referring. "Okay. So where do I find ... Her?"

The dwarf just pointed further down the tunnel. "You're a bright boy. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

* * *

Hitoshi slings the boltcutters onto one shoulder and grins. "So, lets get this show on the road. We have a Lawyer to rescue... Never thought I'd want to rescue a Lawyer before now."

"There's a culvert at the edge of the development, about a mile over," Evie says. "We can enter there and work our way towards the spot Lya saw."

"We'll have to be careful, there will be innocents down there," Lya added. "Either because they had the good sense to tell Lyman to get bent, or because they're useless as far as his plans go."

The culvert is already awash in a spill of foam and char-blackened water, the smell of smoke thick upon the air.

Evie flicks the beam of her flashlight along the ground. "This way."

The group starts making their way back along the tunnels, their footsteps echoing off the walls. There are other sounds: the running of water, the squealing of rats, an occasional cough or buzz of conversation. For the most part, you ignore these, as running down every last sound would be near impossible.

You come to the junction that would lead into the heart of the fire zone. There's a young man leaning against the wall to the right.

"Hey, hold up, there's a big fire topside, all the crud is flowing down here," he says. "Ain't saying you _can't_ go down there, but if you're thinking salvage or something, forget it."

"Not looking for salvage, man..." Lya assures him. "Friend of ours went missing during the evacuation and we wanted to see if he was still down here and needed help. If we don't help our own, who's gonna...am I right?"

"There wouldn't be a 'down here' if people actually gave a shit," the young man says. "Just watch out for falling stuff. And I hope you ain't wearing anything you wanna keep, 'cause it's gonna smell worse'n Smoky the Bear's ass."

He lets you pass without protest, and you continue further into the tunnel. The sound of running water grows louder as waterfalls of runoff gush down the walls to form a small stream in the center of the tunnel. Glowing embers cast an eerie light upon the walls, emphasizing shadows and darker colors.  
None of it looks familiar, and yet you _know_ you're in the right place.

"We're where we should be," says Evie. "Any of this look familiar?"

"Like being a confrontational asshole is going to make people want to help you either," Lya sighs to herself. "The room I found was large and carved out with these huge dining tables lined up. I didn't go farther than that into the tunnels though since I was by myself." She digs out the card Arky gave her. "Look around on the walls and see if you can find any art or symbols. They should point us in the right direction."

"All else fails there should still be runoff from the fire, right?" Toxic adds. "If we keep following that it should lead us to the right place."

"All you can do is offer aid... you can't make them take it," Phoebe says quietly as she walks up next to Lya and starts searching the walls. "They have been cast aside for too long not to be angry."

"I know," Lya sighs quietly. "I just wish they could see there's an alternative... especially with creeps like Lyman taking advantage of that anger."

"He was caring for his own," Orithia notes, "keeping his people, the outcasts and homeless, safe by keeping them away from a problem area. He probably thought we were just opportunistic hipsters going for urban salvage."

"Oh, my god," Klepto says. "This is beautiful work."

She shines her flashlight on a painting that is nearly two meters across. Reminiscent of a Maxfield Parrish work, it's a sunrise over rolling hills lost in an early-morning haze. The sunlight limns several Doric columns with yellow-gold.

Arky's sigil, the starburst/comet, is in one corner.

"Wow... we should hire him to make us a backdrop for one of our performances!" Lya says as she shines her light upon the painting. "At the very least he might be interested in contributing to one of our charity shows. No wonder they're all so agitated... between Lyman pushing his drugs and dogma and the art critics hipsters looking for the next Banksy they're probably sick and tired of dealing with people."

"I've got to write his number down and make sure I don't lose it in this mess," Lya mutters to herself as she pulls out her Sharpie and writes his number on her arm. "Well we're definitely going the right way, then."

Evie nods and follows Lya's lead down here. Though, she still consults the maps to make sure that they aren't headed anywhere that might make them super-dead, she leaves this venture to the singer. Here. Lya is the most capable and knowledgeable.

However, this doesn't mean that Evie isn't keeping an eye out for...anything...really. She fully expects that any clues that might have existed have been washed away. However, it's not a foregone conclusion that nothing will have survived the deluge. And, you miss 100% of the things that you don't look for!

It's when Evie picks out a specific scent in the thick of the hazy fume filling the tunnels that she can put the group back on the right track. It's the smell of cordite and plastic explosives, which you remember from a Homeland Security briefing the last time there was a round of idiots packing explosives into their underpants or whatever.

"Whatever hole you saw wasn't caused by the fire," she tells the others.

Evie paces back and forth, trying to get a sense for the strength of the odor before her mind blocks it out, her eyes scanning for other traces and signs. There. A ... borehole, drilled into the concrete.

How would ...? Of course. The Roget Building had been demolished in a planned implosion, giving Roget/Lyman access to high-grade demolitions materials ...

"Which really drives home the belief that they've got Alex holed up somewhere for who knows what," Lya says. "If they just wanted him dead, they'd have just tried to kill him in the fire and make it look like an accident."

"Lyman is probably setting it up so that Alex's death takes awhile, giving him time to gloat," Evie frowns. "He can't just do something simply. No sirree. Lock someone in a sarcophagus and let them asphyxiate. That's his style."

"But, that works in our favor, too. It As you said, it's means he's probably still alive."

"So, there should be more new tunnels close by, I would think. We just have to find the tunnel that's not on these maps and look new."

She closes her eyes for a second and inhales deeply, "I need to find the scent of new earth and explosives..."

"The Aesir revere valor and courage, among other virtues," Klepto says. "Nothing valorous about murdering a rival while he's asleep in bed. Lyman will want to show that he's deserving of the crown, I guess."

"Perhaps that's what derailed their plans in the 1950's," Evie muses. "Lyman thought he was getting rid of a rival, and having a troll do the dirty work, burying Thomas alive, that burned whatever capital he had on the divine politics front. So he _has_ to take Alex on. Us, as well."

"Let him try," Toxic smiled grimly.

Lya frowns, staring at the ground. Then she looks up and says, "This way."

"What'd I miss?" asks Evie.

"Nothing. Runoff isn't as deep here, so it must be going somewhere else, like a tunnel further down."

"Nothing valorous or courageous about turning a bunch of innocents into cannon fodder to fight your war," Lya adds as they go searching for the tunnel. "I'd say Lyman is acting just like his father: cowardly, conniving, and unable to learn from the past."

"Amen to that," Evie mutters. She pauses for a moment, thinking. Her brow furrows and she sighs, "Once we find the new tunnels, we'd best keep a close eye out for traps. Lyman is a greasy bastard and...well...I'm not 100% certain that he's so arrogant and confident that he won't put obstacles in the way, down here."

"Sure, he may have been counting on us to be busy with our own problems, or dead. But, I'd rather not assume such and step right on homemade mine."

It isn't far before you come to the collapsed floor (?) of Alex's house. The scope of the damage becomes more evident. Lyman (or his people, most likely) blew out the top half of the storm drain, plus the sewage and utility lines sandwiched between it and the house above.

"We're here," Lya says. "The dining room, or whatever you want to call it, is at the bottom of the slope. Careful, it's steep."

"Bastard," Evie snarls, seeing the chamber as she would a crime scene. "He did this under Alex's house to hide the fact that it was _him_. Invoke power to summon Einjehar or bind thralls with Jotunblut, but no one notices, because they see Alex's footprint first."

"If they've taken Alex, they may not be done. Imagine renting the convention center and holding a ritual there. Suddenly, you've a force in the hundreds of thousands, more than a match for law enforcement."

"Gods... now I'm expecting Bane to come charging out of the dark looking for Batman," Lya mutters as she uses her cane to make her way down the slope.

"You think darkness is your ally...but you merely adopted the dark," Toxic replies with a chuckle.

"Yeah... not helping."

* * *

Alex continued down the tunnel's length, not seeing anything to merit the dwarf's trepidation or quiet respect.

Until he found the work lights aimed at a narrow vent to one side. Despite the spill of light flooding the rest of the tunnel, it didn't seem to reach into the vent more than a foot.

This had to be where he would find _Her._ Whoever she was. Hopefully not some giant spider like in Lord of the Rings.

The corridor was wide enough for him to walk normally, but just barely. A warrior carrying a sword and shield would find himself forced to turn the shield aside and hold the sword at a disadvantageous angle.

He raised one hand to feel - lightly - against the wall, which fell away after several yards, a chill whisper of wind describing a larger space.

Light, from somewhere, someplace high above shone down in a perfect circle.

He stepped forward into it.

Darkness. The smell of old paper and musty attic spaces.

"Ah. There you are. Come to me at last," a pleasant contralto spoke.

"I am at a disadvantage," Alex said. "I don't know who you are."

"Arrogant pup," the voice snapped, a harsher tone becoming evident. "You know. You dance in my domain. You mock that which binds Mortal and Aesir alike!"

"Death to the Son of Tyr," hissed a familiar voice. An echo from the past, powerless.

"If I have offended, I would -"

"What would you?" the harsh tone asked. "Pledge fealty? Offer service? We are not haggling, boy."

"What do you ask of me, then? Do I speak to the Norns, having bought my life at the cost of others?" Alex asked.

"Mmmmmm, so close," cooed the pleasant voice. "But, no. I am not a Norn."

"You have named me, but I still do not know wh-"

"You would know me?" asked the pleasant voice. A delicate hand, almost porcelain white, reached out of the darkness, the sleeve of a rough-spun robe sliding back along a woman's arm.

She reached up to caress his face. Her touch was cold, not in the sense of ice or frost, but of polished marble and stone-faced angels standing guard over ... tombstones.

"Ah, there we are. Do you know who I am, now?" she said.

"Hel."

"Yes," the harsh voice replied. "Few accept my touch willingly."

"What do you ask of me?"

"Be my agent in that which is to come," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"You walk between worlds, Son of Tyr. If it is by accident, you are no use to me. If you do so to defy me, then it is my right to claim the weregild for such. But if you are willing, I can offer you more," she said.

Alex couldn't help but think of Keats' _La Belle Dame Sans Merci,_ with himself in the place of the lone knight.

"Whose side are you on in the coming conflict?"

"None but my own," Hel told him. "I am Death. I take no sides, though I am oft accused of ill will. It helps protect fragile minds from the truth, that I come for all, gods and mortals, kings and paupers, warriors and tradesmen."

"I was recently made an offer in the mortal world. I knew there might be ... a conflict of values," Alex said. "I am my father's son. Justice calls to me."

"No conditions. Accept, or refuse. Do not think you can lie to me," Hel said.

* * *

Hitoshi chuckles an almost evil laugh as he takes lead. "Bane might be down here, but there's a big difference between me and Batman."

He looks back at the girls, and his eyes glow in the darkness.

"He couldn't see in the dark. I can. I'll take point and do some scouting. Make sure nothing tries to ambush us."

"He does realize that's how horror movies start, right?" Lya chuckles as she gives a hand to Evie and the others who make it down the slope.

"For once it's not the women getting captured and separated from the group," Evie replies as Toxic stifles a laugh.

"Yeah... no helpless damsels in distress here," Lya agrees as she attaches her staff to her belt and carefully pulls out her gun.

The heat and smoke lessen as you move further from the collapsed area. You find yourselves in a brick-lined tunnel, perhaps an older part of the storm drain system where they simply built on top of things. There is no graffiti here, indicating that you're outside of Arky's turf, and not likely to find many allies.

Evie bends down to pick up an elongated piece of metal. It's a corroded plate, stamped with the legend, "... tern 4 East 5"

"Northern? Southern?" asks Lya.

"Maybe. This isn't on any of the maps," Evie says. "Wait. _Cistern._ Some kind of water storage facility, maybe built during the war?"

"Yeah. Creepy evil sociopath, secret underground base, all we need is a brutish henchman," laughs Hitoshi.

There's a very loud _clang_ from further down the hall. A bellow of pain and frustration.

"Death to the Son of Tyr!"

"Welp. I'd say we found Alex," Evie gives a lop-sided grin.

She carefully begins to make her way down the hall, not rushing headlong. Alex is strong and can heal. He stands a good chance in most fights, unlike civilians that she is used to dealing with. Thus, she is more cautious than she would be were she aiding a regular person.

Evie pays attention as she moves, looking for other hallways that branch off of this one. Sounds could echo down here and lead the team astray...

"Sounds like we've found our friend," Klepto says grimly as she and the other Furies move to stand protectively in front of Lya with sledgehammers and bolt cutters in hand as they move down the tunnel after Evie.

"Sounds..." Lya mutters as she gets an idea. "Sounds travel like crazy down here, don't they? OK, Alex... I hope you can hear this because I looked up this speech just for you, Son of Tyr..."

Lya takes a deep breath and projects as loud as she can...

_It is to a higher purpose that I now call to my people and anyone who can hear me who will make our cause their own. I ask them to stand calm, firm, and united in this time of trial. The task will be hard. There may be dark days ahead, and war can no longer be confined to the battlefield. But we can only do the right as we see the right, and reverently commit our cause to the Gods. If one and all we keep resolutely faithful to it, ready for whatever service or sacrifice it may demand, then, with the help of the Gods, we shall prevail!_

There's a curious silence in the wake of Lya's speech. For an instant, everything has stopped. The murmur of activity, even the raging ... whatever running amok further down the tunnel is quiet.  
"Hunh," it grunts. "Not Aesir."

A grinding sound follows, and it takes a moment before anyone realizes it's the creature's (?) footsteps, heavy and ponderous. Massive.

And then it lurches into view. A troll, dressed in leather breeches and linen-strip vambraces. His brow is furrowed, and he is carrying a club - what looks to be the remnants of a stout table leg.

"Aesir ..." he sniffs at the air. He turns to face you more fully, and his bulk nearly fills the width of the tunnel. "No pass."

"May I ask why not?" Evie asks conversationally. Honestly, she's not expecting to get anything useful out of the creature. More than anything, she's stalling to give herself and the others time to think of what they want to do. Because...day-um. She has never seen anything like it and really has no idea what to expect.

And, if it does get the group something to go on, then great!

"You, Aesir," the creature repeats. "What else? Girl warriors. Man with funny eyes. Not on list. No pass. Nobody pass."

"So who's on the list anyway?" Asks Lya as she slowly and hopefully quietly slides back the clip of her gun while standing behind the Furies.

"Jotun," the troll answers. He thumps his chest. "Allies like Surt. Not Aesir like her, or Son of Tyr. We have army. You go, or we fight."

Hitoshi steps forward. "So big guy, do you have orders to deal with any non Aesir? Or do you just ignore them?" He leans on his cane looking at the big creature.

Evie starts backing slowly away, trying to not be obvious about it. She tries to make it seem like she's wandering a bit aimlessly as she listens.

If it turns out that Lya and Hitoshi can pass without a fight, then they should go on ahead. Evie can stealth back and see if there are other passageways around the brute.

"Troll or not he's still got kneecaps," Lya whispers to Evie. "He said he wouldn't let any of us pass if we're not on the list."

"Laufeyson says no one pass except Jotun, allies like Surt," the troll repeats.

"True," she whispers back while the troll's attention is still on Hitoshi. "But, you never know. He may be persuaded to let non-Aesir pass. He doesn't seem like the sharpest tool."

"How does he know that you aren't newly hired allies?" Evie scratches an imaginary itch on her nose. "Lyman is always hiring, it seems..."

Hitoshi scratches his chin. "I see." He looks back towards the girls. "How many suits am I going to have to ruin before we finally get to Lyman?"

Cracking his neck he unsheathes Honjo Masamune. "Look big guy, I got nothing personal against you, but you are frankly standing in my way, so it's either go around you, or through you, and I hate detours. Your used to dealing with Aesir, well I'm worse. My house has nearly been burnt down with me in it, and my friends have been attacked. I'm rather pissed. So you have two choices, move aside, or be prepared to dance. "

He starts walking towards the creature with great purpose, and intent to kill.

Evie shrugs and looks at Lya, "So much for pulling the ol' 'we've got a Wookie to transfer to cell block 1138' routine."

"We fight. Girls can watch," the troll grunts. He wrinkles his nose. "Mmph. Need fight them, too? Surt's pay not enough."

Hitoshi quickly learns that this is neither a swaggering gang member or a beast slow of body and mind. Surt's opening move is a swipe with the table leg that is surprisingly swift ...

Evie takes a step back and pulls out her gun, watching for an opening. She's not nearly as fast or strong as Hitoshi and will merely get in his way. However, she is a pretty good shot...if she can get an opening that won't result in her shooting Hitoshi by accident.

Even with Surt and Hitoshi engaged in combat, there's still a lot of troll visible, and Evie's pick of targets, including the troll's upper chest, arms, and head.

Still, there's no way to know if conventional rounds will do anything but piss the creature off.

"Even Achilles had a vulnerable spot," Lya mutters to Klepto wielding a sledgehammer. "See if you can bring him down to our level so we can get a good head shot."

"Just call me Kathy Bates," Klepto answers with a grim nod. Her hands tighten around the handle of the sledgehammer as she edges to the side of Surt to take a swing at his kneecap while he's fighting with Hitoshi.

Lya takes a deep breath and aims as she waits for Klepto's attack before taking a shot at Surt's eyes.

If necessary, Evie moves to a point where she can get a better shot and also aims for the head. Hopefully, if she or Lya misses, the other can hit.

Hitoshi studies the swipe for just a second and calmly moves to the side easily avoiding it.

"Nice swing there Surt, but your form is all wrong. I can see you are used to dealing with strong but possibly slow opponents."

He drops into a low crouch, and dashes past the big creature, opening a gash in the things side, and spinning to face the creature.

"I admit that I'm not very strong. I probably can't wrestle you, or knock you out in one punch. However, I am very fast, and I can open up thousands of painful cut in your skin, ecah one painfully deep until I finally start taking off your limbs one by one, before finally finishing with your head..."

He sees the others lining up shots. "That is unless you are vulnerable to bullets, in which case my friends might take you down. I really don't care who does it..." He whirls Honjo masamune. "The fact is that you ARE outnumbered, and you will fall eventually."

"Well so much for hiding my shot..." Lya groans.

Evie, too, resists the urge to smack her forehead.

Hitoshi rolls his eyes but keeps his attention on Seurt. "You know, I can always let you all dance with him and go manage my casino if you wish. Let me know now though, I don't think he will wait long for a partner change."

Evie's eyeroll matches Hitoshi as she opens fire on Surt. Hopefully, the brute will turn his back on the swordsman, leaving himself even more vulnerable to the blade.

The troll grunts. The wound on its side doesn't seem to be as devastating as Hitoshi had hoped. In fact, the troll is healing, and you hope it's not because he killed Alex and ate his liver or something bizarre.  
Surt sneers and mimics Hitoshi's sword twirl, but it's rather like a medieval quintain whipping about.

But there's more to the field than sword vs. club. There's a whistling sound as Toxic brings her sledgehammer in towards Surt's knee. The troll is unable to dodge, and there's a wet, meaty _smack_ as the hammer connects.

The troll roars in pain, the club slamming into the ground as his other hand flails through the air towards Toxic ...

Lya takes her opening and whispers a prayer as she takes her shot at Surt's eye in the hopes that it will at least distract him from hitting her friend...

Evie's pistol barks as she fires a pair of textbook center-mass double taps, scoring handily. But, as with Hitoshi's first cut, there is little lasting effect.

"Aesir bitch pay," he snarls.

"Shrug this off, Meat," Lya says, firing a single shot. Her movement is deceptively casual in the same way that Hitoshi's sword-work defines the upper limits of 'fast'  
Rapid healing or not, it's a telling shot, and the troll's free hand claps to his eye, even as he flails his makeshift club back and forth ...

Regardless, Evie keeps plugging bullets into the beast. It's either that or use her fists, and she's pretty damn certain that in a bar brawl with Chunk, here, she's going to wind up as a messy smear on a nearby wall.

So, she concentrates on being as much of a pest as she can, offering distractions for the others to take advantage of.

Toxic ducks the flailing hands and drops the hammer as she leaps backwards into Phoebe just as a club comes slamming down into the concrete and rattling the tunnel walls.

"Fuck me," she mutters as Phoebe helps her up. "That thing is quicker than he looks!"

"Aim for the weak points!" Lya calls out as she takes aim for the creature's other eye...

The fight takes on a surreal aspect as several more exchanges of melee and ranged weapons take place. Surt is increasingly covered in blood. Though he continues to shrug off lesser wounds, his left eye does not seem fully recovered, and his swings become more pronounced as he tries to compensate for the blind spot.

"I need a weapon!" shouts Toxic, having lost her sledgehammer and fervently wishing she had a brace of javelins to throw.

Hitoshi presses his advantage, Honsho Masamune a flicker of silver as the blade flashes in a flawless display of kenjutsu. With the blade's edge sharp enough to deliver stinging cuts, a modicum of added pressure turns razor-fine into deep gashes.

"Fuck. It's like he's on PCP," Evie mutters. "Crazy beyond pain."

Orithia tosses a shovel to Toxic. It's not ideally balanced, but the point of the shovel blade might suffice.

"Hey, Troll-boy!" Lya yells. Surt glances in her direction, and Lya's gun barks once more, taking the troll's second eye. Surt drops his club and howls with pain, rearing back ...

... as Evie lets loose another pair of shots, this time at Surt's head ...

... the troll pitches forward, and Hitoshi dances inside the arc of the troll's flailing arms to deliver a cut described as Ojodan* - a transverse cut that moves from the right side of the neck to the left armpit.

... and Surt's head cleaves off, his body toppling backwards.

There's a long pause as everyone waits to see if there's some other surprise in store. Klepto charges forward with a still-glowing ember and drives it into the stump of Surt's neck, cauterizing the wound.

"Heal _that,_ Titanspawn," she says.

There are the sounds of many heavy breaths as the adrenaline of the fight begins to subside when Toxic calls out "Oh Gods..."

"Are you ok, Toxic? Did he- _oh my gods what is that smell?"_ Lya asks worriedly as she holsters her gun in the back of her waistband and rushes to her friend.

"I thought I landed in something, but no..." Toxic chokes out as she waves a hand in front of her face, "it's that damn troll!"

A chuckle escapes Evie as she shakes her head and holsters her gun. "And I thought they smelled bad on the outside!"

Lya snorts at Evie's joke as she pulls out her flask. "Here you go, put a little of that under your nose and you'll be fine." She turns to Klepto. "If this troll was a guard, does he have any keys or anything on him?"

"Why do I get all the fun jobs..." mutters Klepto.

Hitoshi wipes Honsho against the troll's vambraces. "When you have trolls standing post, who needs locked gates?"

"No pockets," Klepto says. Still, she produces a knife and flicks it open, using the blade to open and initially probe a pair of belt pouches.

"Some kind of jerky," she says. "Doesn't look like beef or turkey. And I'm not tasting it. And, winner! A card key."

"Hey, Tall, Dork, and Handsome! Breakfast!" someone calls out from a short distance away. "Oh, holy fucking shit. Oh, shit."

There's a dwarf standing nearby, holding a cardboard box that holds food that is decidedly more appetizing than rat jerky. He sets the box down and raises his hands ...

Evie had been about to ask about a plan of attack for future encounters when this fellow arrives. Her mouth is open on the first, half-formed word. She blinks and closes her mouth, trying not to look completely caught off guard.

She lifts her gun and points it at the dwarf, even though, at first blush, he doesn't seem like a threat, "There's an Aesir being held here by the name of Alex North. Where is he?"

As though conspiring to make her seem less threatening, Evie's stomach growls at the mention of food. It has been awhile since she last ate...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the dwarf says. "If that's his name, yeah, he was here. Surt, there, was babysitting him. Shit. Now we've got dead troll to clean up, before he makes the whole place smell."

"But before you go chasing after him, he's talking to _Her,"_ he adds. "Probably not a good idea to interrupt."

"Her? Who is she?" Evie asks, wondering who this person is. The way the dwarf says it makes it sound like she is quite important, indeed.

"No. I ain't gonna say her name, nuh-uh," the dwarf tells you. "She shows up, tells me some Aesir is going to come through here, not my place to scoff or tell her 'no.'"

"You want to go poking about, She's down that way," the dwarf says. "Now, if you need shit built, stuff forged, I'm your man. Hrofgar Iron-Arm. Swords, arrow-heads, spear-points, silver bullets. Stone, wood, and metal. Longhouses, mead halls, temples, prisons, we can build 'em. Reasonable prices."

"You guys got a goddess you don't like to talk about?" Orithia whispers to Evie as she stands at her side ready to back her up if necessary.

"How are you guys at building stages for concerts?" Lya asks with an easy smile. "Though I may get back to you about those mead halls. You got a card?"

* * *

(Alex)

"So is this some kind of bargain where you claim my spirit when I die, instead of going to Valhalla?" Alex asked.

"You speak of things you know nothing about," Hel warned. "Death is my realm. You cannot trespass without answering to me, Son of Tyr. Are you willing to pay the price?"

"If I have offended, my Lady, honor demands I make amends," Alex answered.

"Then know my power," Hel said.

There was that whisper touch of perfect stillness. A moment of terror as the hood fell back from Hel's robe, her face fully revealed, one side now aging, decaying, turning to rotting flesh and sinew. A face that drew closer, her lips pressing to his.

Darkness.

He knew where he was. The wreckage holding the bodies of the helicopter crew, the crew chief lying nearby, his M1911A locked open and empty.

And his own body alongside, his life's blood spilling out and staining his uniform. There were Mudjehadeen ripping components from the chopper, valuables from the bodies of the dead.

"NO!" someone shouted. A grizzled man stood over his body. His father, Tyr. Norse God of War and Justice.

"It is not your decision to make," a familiar rasp said. Hel.

"Neither was it yours," Tyr sneers. "Laufeyson's hand is in this."

"That changes nothing."

"It changes everything," Tyr says.

"You do not understand," Hel hisses.

"Don't I? War is my purview as Death is yours. But I also know Justice, and that is being denied."

"So you plead, you mew, you beg like every other mortal that comes to my door," Hel laughed. "There will be a price."

"Then I will pay it. You and I are partners, of a sort. There is no War without Death," Tyr smiled grimly.

"It is not your price to pay, but his," Hel says. "You make this bargain now, but it will befall him to choose, in time. Until then, he lives on borrowed time ..."

* * *

Even though Evie feels like Hrofgar is probably on the up-and-up, just the hired help who doesn't want anything to do with fights and bloodshed. she still keeps her weapon ready. Just in case. Still, she feels a bit bad about it. His gruff, straightforward manner sort of reminds her of her mortal father.

At Orithia's question, Evie thinks back to what she has read about the Nordic pantheon over the past couple of months. 'The only one that I can think of that fits the bill is Hel," she whispers back. "She's death. But, not the happy mead and feasting death. She takes the souls of those who die of disease or old age. But, I don't know how accurate what I read was. After all, legends and stories get muddled over time in the retelling. The only thing I know for certain is that Death is her realm."

"Okay. Reaching for my business card, no tricks," he says. "'Cept you may have to ask an Aesir to read it for you."

He hands over a silvery card that is surprisingly thin, yet doesn't seem to warp or bend. What must be his name and contact information are etched upon it.  
"Here you go. My people'll take care of you, even though you're not from the neighborhood, as it were," Hrofgar tells you. "Won't get that courtesy from other clans. Me, I figure gold is gold, unless you're dealing with the Tuatha. But they got their own ideas."

As Evie mulls over the identity of 'Her,' Hrofgar taps his nose. "Except the world is changing. Old age, disease, misfortune, accidents, pretty much anything that isn't a glorious death in battle. And with Fimbulwinter upon us, she's running the kind of joint where checking in and 'checking out,' they're the same thing."

"If she's having a chat with your friend, maybe Heimdallsdottir should be the one who goes to look," he adds. "I mean, you can all do the face-your-fears thing and march in, but like they say topside, if you can't afford to lose, you shouldn't be playing."

"Nice craftsmanship!" Lya replies as she checks out the card and pulls out her own to hand to the dwarf. "Definitely going to have to give you a call once all this is taken care of."

She then pulls out her flask and takes a drink before offering it to the dwarf for a drink. "So... this massive downer chic... is she the one pulling the strings, or is she just reaping the benefits?

Evie puts away her gun, convinced that the dwarf is just a businessman, neutral in this whole, crazy affair.

"I'm sorry for threatening you, Hrofgar," she apologizes to him. "I just...gotta be careful, now, ya know? Could you tell me more about Fimbulwinter? I'm not sure that I have heard that word."

* * *

"It is not your time, Son of Tyr," the Valkyrie told him.

"Valeria?" he said.

"How is it that you know my name, Warrior?"

"This isn't real. It happened almost twenty years ago," he said. "We meet in the future."

Valeria shakes her head. "Speak no further of such things. It is not your time ..."

_"Until then, he lives on borrowed time ..."_

Justice ... and Death. His entire career had been pitting one against the other. The rape case in Okinawa. The wrongful death lawsuit against the NYPD. Glenn Vernon, here in Vegas. Charles Cooper.

They were all connected, opposite sides of the same coin. The challenge coin that Tyr had gifted him with, the JAG seal on one side, and the crest of the Grim Reapers, the air-combat wing attached to his old Army post, on the other.

_"Know my power ..."_

Choose to be the champion of one or the other? _Become_ one or the other? Or, as the Tennyson poem would have it:

_That which we are, we are: equal parts heroic hearts made weak by time and fate, but strong in will to strive, to seek, to find ... and not to yield_.

* * *

(Evie, Lya, &amp; Hitoshi)

"My dear, that's a slice of platinum. Rock band, eh? 'Lya and the Furies,'" he adds. He looks at Toxic, Orithia, Klepto, and Phoebe. "Yeah, give me a call."

At the question about Hel, he chuckles. "Massive downer chick. Okay, that's just funny. Nah, she's not running the show. She just showed up, said she required a word with the Aesir, and went to sit in a dark corner. Rest of this is Laufeyson's shit."

"Not offended, Ma'am," he says to Evie. "Yeah, I know. It's always Fimbulwinter. Signs point this way, signs point that way, nobody knows which way is up, and _boom_ Ragnarok. My money is on this being the real thing, not just wishful thinking and prophecy."

Evie heaves a sigh and nods. It does seem like winter, the symbolic kind, is always here. She sees it lurking everywhere in her job.

"So, guys...what do you think? Should I go peek or do you think we should wait until she is done?" Evie looks to the others for an opinion. After all, if she manages to piss off Hel, all of them may well pay. It's not a decision to be made alone.

"Do not go gentle into that good night...rage, rage against the dying of the light..." Lya says as she takes another drink and passes it along to Toxic.

"Well we didn't come this far for our friend just to leave him in the hands of the goddess of Death, did we?"

Lya reaches out to shake the dwarf's hand. "Hrofgar, it was a pleasure, and I sincerely hope the next time we meet it's under better circumstances. In the meantime... it might be better for you and your friends to take an extra-long lunch break, if you catch my drift."

"There's a safe place somewhere here I don't know about?" the dwarf laughed. "Just remember the part about leaving a good-looking corpse, okay?"

"We go," Hitoshi says. "I'm not in the habit of leaving friends behind."

It isn't much further down the passage before you come to where the old brick tunnel ends, and a natural cave structure begins. There is a narrow cleft in the rock which will require you to enter single-file and at a disadvantageous angle.

"I'll go first," Hitoshi says with a no-nonsense tone. "Two of the Furies, Lya and Evie, the other half of the Furies."

"Well if it really is a goddess in there I don't think our weapons are going to do any good," Lya shrugs at Evie. "Might be better off being respectful first." She looks at the Furies worriedly. "Besides... I don't want to lose you guys in there."

"Hel...Hades... we all end up in their domain eventually," says Klepto as she and Orithia prepare to go in front.

"But until that happens they can bloody well mind their own business," Toxic mutters as she picks up the sledgehammer that she dropped earlier.

"But... didn't the dwarf say that maybe Evie should go since she's of the same religion?" Lya asks before turning to see that Hitoshi has already gone through the entrance.

"Well shit."

Evie holsters her gun and makes sure the safety is on. In these tight quarters, she'd be just as likely to shoot a friend as a foe. Better to rely on her hand-to-hand training, for the time being...and hope no more big, hairy surprises jump out. Besides, Lya is right about being respectful. She's certain that Hel would not appreciate them coming in weapons a-waving.

"Oh well..." Evie sighs as Hitoshi once again heads forward. "Maybe it'll open up farther down and I can pop in front."

"Is it cold in here all of a sudden, or is it just me?" Orithia asks as you make your way into the space beyond.

"It's cold," Toxic says. "Cold li-"

"Don't say it," Phoebe interrupts.

The passage widens, and you realize you cannot possibly be in Las Vegas. Rough-hewn walls are just at the edge of your vision, walls with niches carved into them in ranks, a musty museum smell (which, all things considered, is a vast improvement over dead troll) permeating the air.

It's a catacomb.

The ground beneath your feet is somewhat overgrown grass and shrubs. Flagstones lay in a meandering path, but you're not entirely certain you'd want to go where they lead ...

"Gods, no wonder this lady is so morose," Lya comments as she looks around. "She should hang out in New Orleans more... now _there's_ a culture that knows how to celebrate Death in style."

She tosses the flask over to Orithia. "Pass it around...it'll warm you right up and take the edge off."

"We are so not in Kansas anymore," mutters Toxic.

"Make sure to stay together... catacombs tend to have monsters living at their heart," Phoebe warns.

"Any ideas, Evie? You're our resident Aesir now..." asks Lya.

"This place feels...odd," Evie says as she steps away from the group slightly, just enough for her to look around and try to get an idea of what this place is. "I'm not sure where we need to go, from here. But...we're looking for death. Not necessarily nice death, but...quiet. Still."

She thinks for a second, "Now, keep in mind that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. _But_...if I had to take a guess, I would say that we need to look for the quietest, darkest part of this mausoleum."

As soon as it is out of her mouth, Evie realizes how stupid that sounds. Looking for quiet and death in this place is sort of like holding up a black piece of paper and saying, "Let's look for the blackest part of the paper!" They are surrounded by stillness. How are you going to find a spot that's more still?

She knows that they need to find Alex, who should be a beacon of light in a place like this. Unfortunately, she doesn't know _how_ to look for that light. She is loosely tied to him by blood. After all, he is technically her cousin. But, she has no idea how to use that connection.

She shakes her head, feeling completely out of her depth, "And I have no idea if there will be monsters, here."

The space seems to be an odd blend of indoor and outdoor, above-ground and below. There are parts where clots of grass give way to flagstones, and then to fully-paved floors. Aisles of niches containing the dead appear shallow, perhaps only three high and three deep, but there is definitely the sense of a 'kingdom of the dead.'

Nonetheless, it seems like you can walk or explore in any direction.

"So do we pick a direction and stick together, or stay put and make ourselves known in the hopes that somebody will come to us?" Lya asks. "Either way, I definitely don't like the idea of splitting the group up. I mean you saw what it did to the Beatles."

"Oh, I already know you are here, children," a silken voice whispers out of the darkness. "And not just friends of dear, sweet Alex, but children of the gods. Would you like to see your friend?"

"We'd like to leave with our friend, actually... if it's not too much trouble, ma'am," Lya calls out. "That is if he's still alive and hasn't passed on to your domain. I have literally walked through fire to find him."

Evie remains quiet, awaiting Hel's answer. She has no idea what to expect from the goddess. Will she be angry at the intrusion? Will she be merely curious and possibly dismissive? Evie certainly hopes for the latter. The idea of dealing with an angry death goddess does not make Evie happy.

Hitoshi looks around the area the group now stands in.

"If you decide to be kind enough to allow us to see our friend, that would be your decision, but as to your question, the answer is yes, we would like to see Alex North. If you would let us leave with him as my friend has requested, we would be grateful."

The cold doesn't seem to bother him much, but even Lya can see for once he's slightly unnerved, and the hairs on the back of his neck can be seen standing on end.

"Come, then," the voice purrs. "Walk towards the light. We are waiting for you."

It's a bit of a stretch to call anything in this vale of shadows and mist 'bright,' and you feel like you're chasing a will-o'-the-wisp. The walls surge and recede as you do, finally fading away into the blackness, and you step onto a terrace. Beyond is a vast ocean, but not one of water.  
It is a sea of dead things, their shades wandering to and fro in mockery of actual waves, and underscoring that death is like the tide. It ebbs and flows, lapping at one's feet or crashing over one's head.

And _she_ is there, a goddess in the very place of her power.

"I bid you welcome, children," she says. "And here is your friend."

She gestures to one side and you see a sarcophagus that looks uncomfortably familiar, chiseled out of meteoric iron. But rather than runes etched into its lid, there is an effigy of Alex. Or is it truly he that lay there, cold and unmoving?

Whatever the truth is, there is a quartet of shades standing vigil ...

The first is a much younger Alex, clad in an Army uniform that is stained with the blood from a line of bullet holes.

The second, older and more familiar, Alex in shirt and tie, holding a bottle of wine, and, again, with a crimson splotch over his heart.

The third, a much less pleasant thing to look upon, Alex with his shirt torn open, a ballistic vest cut away at the straps and the bloody wounds beneath it.

The fourth, a charred husk, hunched with pain, hands made claw-like from searing heat.

"All of these are your friend," Hel rasps. "But only one may leave this place. You must choose who ... and what ... you take with you."


	21. Will the Real Alex Please Stand Up?

"All of these are your friend," Hel rasps. "But only one may leave this place. You must choose who ... and what ... you take with you."

Hel's words echo disturbingly in the silence that follows. Even the susurration from the ranks of the dead seems to fade as the choice hangs there, unvoiced.

"Four shades, five choices," Evie points out.

"Yes," is all Hel says.

"Sarcophagus," Hitoshi says quietly. "What do the rest of you think?"

"I think I'd like to ask these phantoms some questions," Lya said. "With the goddess' permission."  
Hel nods.

"I am in no hurry," she says. "However, you have concerns in the living world that may require such. But ask your questions."

Evie waits, curious to hear what Lya will ask and what the spirits' answers will be.

"A question for each of you then," Lya begins. "A jail in Texas that is dangerously overfilled with prisoners has decided that to make room they're going to immediately fulfill the sentences of all prisoners on Death Row despite the fact that some of the cases are still open because of new evidence that has been found. Do you agree or disagree with their actions?"

"Disagree," says the Army officer. "Better that a guilty man go free than an innocent man be put to death."  
"I couldn't countenance that, no," says the second. "The death penalty must be subject to strict judicial review to prevent abuses."

"I'd have to disagree, Lya," the third opines. "The law is there to protect people, not fulfill some notion of revenge or punishment."

"Agree," says the burning man. "They made their choices, and have faced Justice. Now they face Death."

"Agree," comes a voice from the sarcophagus. "However, if a case is under appeal, then the sentence should be commuted to life without parole until the cases are settled."

"I like the one in the box, honestly," Lya says as she turns to the group. "Justice without Death has no compassion and only sees in black and white truths. Death without Justice has no goal other than death itself. The one in the box seems to be a combination of both."

Evie nods her agreement, "I'm leaning towards Alex-in-a-Box, as well. Still, I'd like to hear a little more from them."

The detective turns towards the Alexes who disagreed with the proposal and ask, "The prison is still over-crowded. What would you propose instead of moving the sentences up?"

She then turns to Alex-in-a-Box and says, "Now, I understand that what I am about to suggest doesn't happen often...but it does. Let's say Prisoner A is slated to die, there are no appeals. However, a new case arises and turns out to be connected to Prisoner A's case. New evidence is found that proves that Prisoner A is, in fact, not guilty...or guilty of a lesser crime that does not warrant death."

"In your case, the death row prisoners who do not currently have appeals lose the opportunity for future appeals. You are stealing time from men who are already living their lives watching a countdown to their own death."

Here, she chuckles and shrugs, "In a way, we're all watching that clock. But, we don't have it shoved in our face twenty-four hours a day."

"Is it more compassionate to end that watch or to give them those last days with slim hope for a chance at freedom?"

Hitoshi glances over at Hel for a moment and ponders the answers given to the questions asked.

"I know one thing, we don't want either of the extremist view Alexes."

"Just because I'm in the military doesn't make me an extremist," says the Army officer. "If there's not an appeal, ma'am, there's nothing I can do."

"I believe everyone deserves a fair chance," says the second, "but the voters believe in the death penalty. I can't change that."

"We can't just start releasing prisoners willy-nilly, Evie," says the third shade. "You know that. There must be respect for the law."

"And who speaks for the victims?" the Burned Man sneers. "Sometimes, Death and Justice are the same thing."

"The sentences of non-violent offenders could be reduced or commuted," says Alex-in-the-Box. "At the same time, all existing death penalty cases would fall under automatic appeal. Nevada doesn't do that yet. That's more than fair, and within the boundaries of the law."

Evie nods and smiles, "I like Alex-in-a-Box," she says. "I think he encompasses all of the previous incarnations of himself and has come to terms with both Death and Justice."

"What do you guys think?"

"Seems reasonable." Hitoshi replies thoughtfully.

"Sounds like a winner to me," Lya adds. "So how do we get Alex in the Box out... is there a crank that plays Pop Goes the Scion?"

"You have made your choice," Hel smiles. "I am satisfied. This will be an interesting game."  
She turns away from you, becoming insubstantial as she does so.

"Remember, however, that I am always here."

The shades remain behind. The Army officer nods to you and smiles, then seems to be absorbed into the effigy - though you're still not sure it _is_ one - of Alex.

"Just remember, expectation is not reality," the second shade warns. "Still, it took courage to make the choice."  
He, too, merges with his original self.

"I won't remember the dream when I wake," the third says. "There will be darkness. And pain. Don't lose your way."

He, too, resolves back into the effigy.

"Free," says the Burned Man. "You want him? Take him. Leave."

"I hope we picked wisely," Evie mutters. She moves to stand next to the sarcophagus and puts her hands on the lid. "I guess we just...open it?"

At this point, Evie looks to the side and realizes that Burnt Alex is still there. She had expected him to fade with the others. She gazes at the horrific, crisped version of her friend, pondering.

"So, why aren't you gone?" she asks. "Is it because you never were really a part of Alex? You never came to pass?"

She tilts her head, thinking, "So, what are you, really?"

"I am that part of Alex North that does not yield," he says. "The young Army officer who played cat-and-mouse with the Mudjehadeen for three days to claim his birthright. The idealistic lawyer who pursues Justice when others would turn away. The man who walks away from a lucrative position to do what is right."

"The things that you value Alex North for are gifts of my hand. I am free."

"So what... because we didn't pick you Alex is going to be a wishy-washy wussy with no conviction?" Lya scoffs. "You're one fucked up goddess, Hel... no wonder Dad doesn't like you!" she yells out to the void.

"Nah. He's just bitter and angry," Evie says. "You can't just give up a part of your personality...unless...you know...brain damage. You are who you are. You can bury your experiences. You can deny them, but they are always there."

"He existed in young Alex in the military. He was in the Alex who pursues Justice. He was in the Alex who walked out of the DA's office. All of those were re-absorbed, as far as I can tell."

She turns to Burnt Alex and says, "You'll always be a part of him."

"I can't," the Burning Man says. "I want ... I need to be free."

Oddly, it isn't anger or bitterness that you hear in the statement, but a hint of fear ...

"Why?" Evie asks simply, now intrigued by this person. At first blush, he had seemed angry and spiteful. That part of a person that everyone has but suppresses most of the time. But, perhaps there is more...

"I thought you said you _were_ free because we didn't pick you?" Lya wonders. "Are you afraid of what's going to happen back in Hels domain? The only way to be free of her is if you rejoin with Alex in the Box here... because he's the one that's leaving with us."

Lya raises her hands palms up before her. "So what you need to decide is what exactly do you want to be free _from?"_ She raises her left hand slightly. "Do you want to be free of the constrains of being a part of Alex North," she raises her right hand and lowers the left, "or do you want to be free from Hel?"

After listening to Lya's questions, Evie reiterates her own question, "Why? If you do want to be free of Alex...why? I can completely understand wanting to be free of _here._ I, personally, am greatly looking forward to getting back topside. But, I don't understand why you would reject the other parts of yourself."

"Those parts are not weak. They are merely different facets of the same man, just as you are. Each of those parts works together to make something greater than what they are individually," she pauses and looks to the rest of the team.

"It's like all of us. We're different. We see the world through different eyes. And, sometimes we argue. Sometimes we don't agree, or snipe at each other...but it doesn't diminish what we are _together._"

"I'm not strong like you and Hitoshi. I don't think I'll ever be able to move a car without an engine. I don't have the force of presence that Lya does. What I do have are keen eyes and ears. We all bring something to the team."

"Those other parts of Alex? They need you. They need your fire...uh,...no pun intended," she smiles softly. "And, you need them to temper you. They need your strength. You need their compassion."

"Perhaps a desire to be free comes with the package of being Alex's stubborn determination," Lya suggests, "And without all the other pieces of him to tell it what it wants to be free from and why, all it's left with is the desire."

Lya shrugs. "Either way, we've got an Alex that we need to get out of the box so we can stop Lyman and convince the people that the world is still worth saving. Who knows what's been going on and for how long while we've been here."

Hitoshi puts away Honjo Masamune and looks between the box, and the burned visage of Alex. Quietly he walks over to the box. "Well I guess we just need to find the lid and push or lift it off."

He knocks on the top.

"Hey Alex, if you can hear me in there, push against the lid, come on old man, show us that Tyr strength of yours and lend us a hand."

The eyes of what you thought were an effigy snap open. "Where's that dwarf?" Alex rasps. "A fucking tete-a-tete with the goddess of Death wasn't on my to-do list."

He simply lies there for a long moment. He uncrosses his arms from the position of repose they'd been left in, flexes his hands several times.

"Feels odd," he says. "I ... it's weird, I know I spoke to Hel. She was angry that I've been defying her. 'Trespassing on her domain,' she called it. She kissed me ... and nothing. Like a nightmare that starts fading when you wake."

It's another several minutes before he can prop himself up on an elbow. He sees the Burning Man standing there.

"My inner fire, I guess," he says. "Maybe I need you. Maybe this is an indication that we both have to grow, so you aren't consumed by being what you are."

"What am I?" the Burning Man asks.

"More than this," Alex says. "Maybe you're the ichor that flows in my veins. Power? Will? I don't know. At the end of the day, you're me. I'm you. Whaddya say we blow this pop stand?"

He holds out his hand. The Burning Man looks at each of you, even the Furies, as if trying to put something back in place.

He meets Alex's handclasp and fades away.

"You didn't have to go on some wild goose chase to find him and bring me back from the dead, did you?" Alex asks. "Eww, I feel like I'm getting over the flu."

Phoebe moves to offer a steadying hand.

"NO!" Alex shouts, flinching. "Sorry. Look, I really don't know what happened. I think I need to find my father, or maybe Valeria, someone who understands this better than I do."

He frowns, then finally swings his feet to a sitting position before standing.

"Shit, this isn't where I was before," he says. "Any of you drop breadcrumbs or anything?"

"Nope, I'm no Hansel, and Lya's no Gretel. However, I think He'll will let us leave in peace. She seems alright fir the queen of the dead so to speak," Hitoshi replies as he leans on his cane.

Evie's attention is drawn back to their surroundings. She gazes about to make sure that they are still in the same spot and that she knows the way out. This is Hel's realm, after all. The goddess could've shifted things and changed them at any time.

Lya holds out her flask gingerly towards Alex and gives it a slight shake. "Seems like you could use a drink. Gods know I would."

"Lya, considering where we are, it my be best to save the booze for after we make it back to the mortal plain. You know, just in case we run into one of surts kin or something." Hitoshi says quietly.

"Hitoshi, Alex just lost his house to a fire and got kidnapped and drug into Hell through a sewer pipe where he was divided into 5 pieces and turned into a decoration on a sarcophagus. I think now is a _perfect_ time for a drink."

Lya smiles at Alex and proffers the flask again. "That dwarf wasn't so bad... he's just trying to make a living like everyone else and was actually quite helpful when he saw what was happening. We'll get out of here soon as you're ready."

Alex looks around. "Let's go. Anyone see an 'EXIT' sign?"

Evie looks around. The railing and the sea of the dead are still there. And while the group traveled over both grass and flagstone path, there were no sharp turns or switchbacks to deliberately confuse things. And, if they were desperate, they could always follow the walls ... assuming they could find them.

"Well, poop," Evie mutters softly. More loudly, she says to the others, "It doesn't look like anything has changed but...I'm still not entirely certain which way we came. I mean, I know we need to head back away from the Sea of the Dead, here. But, I can't tell if we veered left or right to get here in the first place."

She shrugs, "Do you guys know?" Evie looks between Hitoshi, Lya and the Furies.

"Well... we went through that crack in the sewer tunnel and came out in those catacombs with the paved bits and dead people in alcoves," Lya replies. "After that... there was a weird bit where everything kept moving in the shadows, walls included... and then we were here checking out the view over the balcony."

"If Hel wants more souls to collect, then she certainly has no reason to keep us," Phoebe reasons. "For are we not preparing to fight a war in the world above?"

"Right... we've got an army of Jotunblut that we've still got to deal with," Lya mutters before taking a drink from her flask. "All right then... how about we just go that-a-way," she points in the opposite direction of the balcony, "and trust that Hel will let us go? We played her game, so now it's time to get back to business."

"Sounds like a plan! That-a-way, it is," she waits for the others to get together before she starts moving, not wanting anyone to get separated in this strange place.

"Hey, Alex...you speak up if you start feeling funky, okay?" she turns a concerned gaze to her friend. The last thing she wants it to lose him again just after they found him.

"What's the old Dean Martin line? 'I couldn't feel any better, or I'd be sick'?" Alex smiles. Still, there's just a bit of a brittle edge to the humor.

"I am not unfamiliar with the darkness," Hitoshi says, cryptically. "Let's go."

The group retraces their steps as best they can. It's a bit eerie, as the spirits of the dead react to both Alex and Evie, some darting closer as if curious, others shying away in fear.

The entrance/exit finally comes into view, a narrowing passage marked on either side by torches that burn with an ethereal blue flame.

The only problem is that the passage clearly splits in two directions ...

"Welp. If that ain't a kick in the pants. I don't remember a split. But, then again, I also didn't turn around and look behind me when we exited," Evie says.

She moves to the entrance of each passage, searching for any signs that they may have moved out of one or the other. Since it's stone, she doesn't expect to find anything but...it's worth checking.

The passages appear identical - the brick-lined tunnel of the World War II military installation. Both have identical signs/plates identifying the location. One plate is slightly corroded and dangles from a screw; the other is simply covered with dust and cobwebs.  
But something doesn't feel quite right. It takes you a moment to qualify it in words.

There's an odd tugging sensation from each path, as if you were standing on the beach and squishing your toes in damp sand as the waves tug at your calves and ankles ...

"Well one of these exits out into a sewer, right?" Lya walks up to the entrance of each passage and closes her eyes before taking a long sniff.

The left-hand tunnel smells of stale air and ... something burning or burnt, though it is not the smell of smoke and chemical retardant you expected.

The right-hand tunnel has a smell that is both musty and rank with machine oil or lubricant.

"Well I'm guessing this test is all about you, Alex dear," Lya says as she steps back from the entrance, "because I've certainly never been in the military. The one on the left smells like something burning, but it's not like what was happening with the fire we left. The one on the right smells like... old machines or something. Do the signs say anything?"

He sniffs at each tunnel. "On the left, that's cordite or some kind of munitions. The right ... lubricant. The kind of grease you'd slather on chains, gears, or anything you were putting up for long-term storage."

Alex looks at the signs next.

"Military nomenclature, like what you'd find on a Navy ship - it tells you where you are in terms of the center-line of the ship, what deck you're on, and what 'compartment' you're in. I suppose this could be part of an old civil defense installation," he says. "And both say the same thing. So ... same place, different times? Before and after the fire? Or something else?"

"Say guys? Do the rest of you feel sort of a...I don't know...need to go down these paths?" Evie paces in front of the two, trying to determine if the pull from one or the other feels more powerful.

"Yeah it's weird... but I'm feeling it from both. I wonder if these mean before and after the fire we left?" Lya wonders as she pulls out her staff and sits cross legged on the ground with it across her lap. "Give me a minute guys... I need to think on this."

She takes a drink from her flask and closes her eyes as she runs her hand along the staff and mutters the words... "Αυτό που λέμε είναι απλά χάος πρότυπα που δεν έχουν αναγνωριστεί."

_Both paths are awash in Chaos. Threads of what was, what is, and what may yet come to pass are torn and tossed by the winds of fate, just as a flag ultimately begins to unravel from being battered by the wind._

_Oddly enough, the nexus of each path turns upon taking it ..._

"Well crud..." Lya's eyes flutter open and she scratches her head. "It feels like to me that we've been given two ways to go back to our world, and depending on which one we pick it may effect what was as well as what could be."

"Damn gods can't give you a straight answer..." she mutters as she stands up and dusts herself off. "If that's the case, then I say we bite the bullet and take the one with the burning smell. The one on the right just gives me the sinking feeling that if we take it, we may end up back 10 years later or some shit."

Hitoshi looks at both paths. "Nope, I got nothing. Never did make it through the path finding part of boy scouts. Either path sounds as likely as the other to me. The way I see it, it's a damn situation we are in no matter what."

He pauses thoughtfully then turns around. "Great Hel, I know this is your domain, and know that you can hear me. You wish for lives yes? I'd like to make a deal with you. If you could find it in yourself to show us the Path that will take us back to our proper place in time, I will be more than happy to escort more than one kill happy ganger to your domain via the edge of my blade in exchange. Say one life for each of us. In fact I already sent one to you earlier this night."

Evie shrugs and shakes her head, "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm fine with your choice, Lya. If nothing else, just because of the burning smell. We know we came from a fire. It would make sense to go towards it to get out."

"It is not a question of lives, or your willingness to expedite their final journey," Hel's voice whispers in Hitoshi's ear. "They come to me, or one of my rivals regardless. But I appreciate the thought, my dear."

"I don't think it's a riddle or challenge at all," Alex says. "Hel told Hrofgar she wanted to speak to me. Why fuck with us now? But Lya just said something that makes me wonder. We're in a realm outside the mortal world. We don't know how much time has passed. Minutes, for us ... but days, weeks, or even longer in the mortal world."

"The sign is the same. Same place ... but different times? The smell of smoke doesn't mean it's the fire we left behind."

"Then we go in ready to fight," Toxic declares.

"At least I fell asleep in my clothes," Alex shrugs, even if there's not much of his shirt left after wrestling with Surt.

Lya extends her hand as if trying to measure the tide-like pull each passage exerts.

"No," says Toxic. "You are not going first."

"Your job isn't to be a human shield, Toxic," Lya snaps.

"_Our_ job is to protect you, Daughter of Dionysus," Klepto says. "There will be a day when you grow into the gifts of your divine blood. Let us help you get there."

"We still have to go through," Alex said. "Let's do it before something else changes."

The Furies close ranks around Lya. "I guess we just ... walk in," she says with a shrug.

* * *

Despite the absence of a clear threshold, there was still a feeling of passing_ through_ something. Alex felt like he needed to yawn to make his ears pop.

"Holy crud," Evie breathed.

While continuing to either side, the path forward ended abruptly, the ground falling away sharply. They were looking down into a vast bowl-like moat carved out of the earth, a rime-laden mire stretching between them and a towering keep - what Hrofgar and his colleagues had been working on, apparently. The keep was easily the rival of any of the major casinos on the Strip. Vague and threatening shapes stalked the mire.

There was the _ka-chunk_ of machinery in the distance, and a boulder-sized piece of ice came arcing towards them. Reflexively, two of the Furies fell over top Lya, while Hitoshi and the others flattened themselves against the wall.

But the shot slammed into the moat's edge well above them, shaking the ground. Voices from above rose in shouts of derision...

Evie turns to look back the way they came, hoping that they can back back out of here. She's not so naive as to think that there may be a passage back to exactly where they came from, but there may be somewhere they can go that doesn't have giant boulders being flung in their direction.

"What the effing fuck," says Lya from underneath the pile. "I think you guys can get off me now." Klepto and Toxic quickly stand and pull Lya to her feet before they all back her away from the exit of the tunnel.

"It looks like the son of Loki has been busy while we were gone," Klepto growls.

"This is seriously some messed up shit," Lya says as she pulls out her phone and the shiny metal business card that Hrofgar gave her before they entered Hel's domain.

"What are you doing, Lya?" Orithia asks curiously as she glances back and forth between her and the castle.

"I'm calling a Dwarf who's got a lot of explaining to do..." mutters Lya as her phone starts to ring.

"Hrofgar and Sons," answers a woman. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, may I speak to Hrofgar?" Lya asks with her best "sweet" voice. "I had talked to him about creating some sets for my band and he gave me his card."

"You wouldn't have this number if he hadn't," the woman says cheerily. "We're not exactly in the Yellow Pages. Hold on, my Lady."

There's a click, and you hear a sonorous chant in a language you don't quite recognize.

"At Hrofgar and Sons, if you can dream it, we can build it," Hrofgar's voice says, though this is clearly a recording. "Our forge is fully warded for magical investments and runecrafting."

**tick**

"Hrofgar and Sons, this is Hrofgar. Got a job for us?"

(Evie)

While the tunnel does stretch backwards, it clearly doesn't lead to the catacombs. The right-hand branch is partially collapsed, smashed open to the elements, and the ramparts of the keep beyond the frozen mire. The left-hand branch has fared better, but seemingly from design - someone has put in steel beams to brace the walls, and with good reason- there's a ladder leading topside.

Evie turns back to see Lya on the phone. Figuring there must be a reason she's calling...someone...she doesn't interrupt. However, she does reach over to pluck at her sleeve, getting the singer's attention. Evie gestures back the way they came...though Lya may not want to follow until after she finishes talking. Echoes could carry up the ladder and alert anyone at the top that someone is where they shouldn't be. Still, at least Lya will know what's going on.

Turning to the others, she says, "Come on. Let's move back a bit. There's a ladder leading topside, though, so we may want to be quiet."

Alex narrows his eyes to look towards the trebuchet. "I think everyone's busy, but backing up is a really good idea. They're getting ready for round two."

The groan of disused metal reaches your ears. The hatch at the top of the ladder is being opened. A young girl slides down the ladder with practiced ease.

"Oh, whoa! I mean, he said you'd be here, but ... come on, we gotta get you outta here!" she says.

Lya nods at Evie but then holds up her hand for them to wait a moment. "Hrofgar, my main man... this is Lya Bach. Last time we met it was over a tunnel full of troll guts if you remember."

She chuckles. "Funny thing... we get done having our discussion with Her and what happens when we leave? We find that you and your friends have been busy building a castle! Now don't get me wrong it's a beautiful piece of work from what we can see... but you can understand our confusion since it_wasn't there_ when we left. So I was wondering if you could tell me... just how long have we been gone?"

"While I agree with you about getting out of here," Evie says, "you have us at a bit of a disadvantage. Who are you, who is "he" and where the heck are we?"

She gives a slight grin, "I understand this is not the place or time to be having a lengthy conversation but...you'll understand our caution, I'm sure."

(Lya)

"Leah Bock. Leia Bo-" Hrofgar muses. "Oh, Lya Bach. The musician. Hey, yeah, it's been a while. You find your friend?" There's the sound of someone shuffling things around, opening and closing desk drawers.

"How long have you been gone? Oh-HO, she pulled that trick on you, did she?" Hrofgar chuckles. "It's Midsummer, girl. And the castle? Boom, like magic, right? What you saw us building was foundation stuff, things that had to be done here. The rest was magically shipped in from Asgard. Now, I know my services aren't cheap, but damn ... that's some serious coin to move a keep."

(Evie - and anyone else who's listening)

"Oh, yeah, my hair was longer. And blue, I think. Tawny. I'm with Arky," she says. "And here is the no-man's land that used to be a nice neighborhood, all things considered. Except for those big box stores where you can't walk the aisles without getting the hairy eyeball, you can't hang around outside, that sort of thing."

"But, yeah, the snowball fight is just the start. We gotta jet before the Nazis show up."

"This is...this is Vegas?" Evie's jaw drops. "Holy shit in a handbag. How long have we been gone?"

Evie glances at Lya, hoping that the call will end soon. She really wants to get somewhere safe to try and sort out this mess in relative safety.

"And, uhh...how, exactly, did you know that we would be here?" she asks curiously.

"It's Midsummer?" Lya replies incredulously. "Damn guess it's not 2014 then. May have to talk to you about that foundation sometime soon over a bottle of my finest, Hfrofgar, but at the moment it looks like I've got to go. Thanks for the info!"

Lya puts her phone away and turns to the others. "Tawny! Hey... nice to see a familiar face with all this crazy going on. How long has it been? We should catch up over beers... someplace other than here."

"Blue hair, would have been winter. Almost seven months," Tawny says. "A lot's changed. Not just here, either."

"We have some people topside, and backup out of snowball range. You get up there, head for the runner," she says, indicating the ladder. "Arky saw it, said you'd be here."

She sees Alex. "Crap. It's _you_. There's a bounty on your head, man. Safe enough out here, but if you head into town, be careful. It's ugly."

Evie nods, her mouth pressed into a grim line. Seven months. A lot has quite obviously happened in that time. As she places her hand upon the ladder and starts to climb, her mind turns over the possibilities. What has happened to her family? What of Saul? If they are alive, they must think that she is dead. I mean...gone seven months. Who wouldn't assume the worst?

And, a bounty on Alex's head. That's not at all good for Alex but...she can't help but chuckle to herself. _What I would give to have seen Lyman's face when he discovered Alex gone and his guard dead._ Her mind flits back to the dwarf and she amends that thought, _I hope Hrojgar didn't get in trouble for letting is pass. He was a good guy. Liked him._

"Bloody hell," Toxic mutters. "Lya, better let us go first." Toxic motions to the others and the Furies quickly follow Evie up the ladder.

"Damn Alex... guess you're Mister Popular," Lya chuckles as she looks him up and down. "Good thing your clothes are already worse for wear. Trust me... the more you look like you live on the streets, the more invisible you get. My advice? Roll around in the sewer water a bit, rub some mud on your face and hair, and start muttering to yourself a lot; that way people will do their best to avoid you and not make eye contact."

She gives him a wry smile before turning to Tawny. "We owe you guys big time... glad to hear you're both ok."

The first thing you notice is the biting cold...then the wind and snow.

Several people are huddled about the top of the ladder. One young man carries an axe, his eyes sweeping the surrounding area. Another holds a quarterstaff. Fleece cloaks are tossed over your shoulders, and you are directed towards a rally point only a few meters away. It's a human chain, each waypoint close enough that there's no chance of getting lost or separated.

Before long, you are making your way along familiar streets, though snow-covered houses and cars aren't a common sight in Las Vegas. Your final stop is a familiar strip mall, store shelves cannibalized to enclose walkways. Hand scrawled signs denote what each storefront has become, barracks, a mess hall, classrooms, a hospital ward, a church.

Most of the people walking about have a shell-shocked expression of disbelief on their faces. Numb, and not just from the bitter cold.

You are escorted inside a bulwark that is more than sheet metal shelving. Corrugated steel is bolted to 4x4 beams and bolstered by sandbags.

"Arky, we're back," Tawny says.

"Good. Come on in, brothers and sisters. Sit down, we have some hot soup coming, and once we get your sizes, something a bit warmer to wear," the young man says, his smile warm and genuine.

"Once I learned you'd gone to Tartarus - or whatever your people call the underworld, Son of Tyr - I knew it was only a question of when you would return," he says. "I suspected Lya might be a Scion, but some of you are, as well, yes?"

"And you are?" Hitoshi said quietly.

"Arky. I had the nickname long before I knew what I was," he says. "I am the Son of Phoebus Apollo. A few of my people know this; most don't, including Father Daniel, even though we've had some interesting conversations on God and faith."

"Mrs. Meyer's homemade chicken noodle soup," says a young girl, not Tawny. Bowls are set out, and a generous serving is ladled into each. The server bows, and excuses herself.

"I know North, there, is the Son of Tyr, only because the enemy has named him openly. Lya, a child of Artemis, perhaps. I would be guessing about the rest of you. Welcome home."

Evie gladly accepts both warmer clothing and the hot soup. Even though it had been no more than a few hours, for them, since they departed, it's still been a long time between meals. And baths. And sleep. But, those last two things will have to wait.

"Thank you," she says before taking a sip of the soup. It feels wonderful as it slides down her throat. Warm and flavorful, it sits in her belly and does much to drive away the chill.

Evie smiles at Arky and nods, "I had wondered how you knew we'd be back. Makes sense, what with Apollo being the god of prophecy." Thanks to public education, Evie started out knowing far more about the Greek and Roman gods than the Aesir. The last few months and the internet have rectified that, though.

"I'm Evie Cartwright, daughter of Heimdall," she introduces herself. However, she doesn't introduce the others. She lets them decide how much they want to say about their parentage.

"What happened here?" she asks. "How long was it after we had gone before things started to fall apart?"

"Artemis? Lya? I know she can shoot well with that hand cannon of hers, but her aim is not THAT good." Hitoshi chuckles slightly. Still he does not reveal exactly who her father is.

He looks outside. "Who's leading this side, and on a side note, what has happened to the Westview Grand Casino?"

Evie, too, is interested in finding out what has happened to those she loves. She plans to ask about her family and Saul, in the hopes that Arky knows of them. However, she waits until he has already answered other questions before she hits him with another.

_Hopefully, when the shit hit the fan, Saul got our families out of the city. And, that's assuming that it's safer elsewhere. I wonder how far this reaches?_

"Side? There's not an organized resistance. At least, not in the sense of taking the fight to the enemy," Arky tells you. "I've been taking care of my people, and helping those I can."

He pulls out a laminated map of Las Vegas that has areas marked off.

"Snowstorm hit around the end of January. Nobody panicked - it does snow in Vegas, and folks thought it was just a polar vortex or winter storm like the Midwest and East Coast have been getting slammed by.  
"A couple weeks in, the problems start. Airport can only get a flight or two out a day, and nothing's coming in. Roads are iced up. Stores start running out of things. Military gets some essentials in, but it's not just Vegas in a bind, it's everywhere. Extreme weather, even heard rumours about sea monsters attacking port cities.

"And, just like you'd figure when people think there's no help coming, they get desperate. People start wailing about the End Times. Crime goes up, the Mayor declares a curfew. Got a few enclaves like this, mostly people banding together out of need. Not everyone is playing nice. In some neighborhoods, they'll shoot you without blinking.

"We're lucky. Father Daniel's got some good people in his parish, he's keeping everyone focused, but he's totally pressed for answers he doesn't have. It's not going to last."

He points to the map, where the Westview is circled in black.

"The Strip. World's freezing, so what do people do? Try and rip off some of the casinos. Private security going nuts, the police trying to rein them in. Except for the Westview. Nobody gets in, and nobody comes out. National guard has a detachment there, because they don't know what the fuck is going on."

Hitoshi scratches his chin. "Do cellphone services still work?" He asks pulling out his phone.

"Probably work for a call, but not much more," Arky tells you. "Unless you're trying to reach someone at the Westview. Military tried sending a drone in, they lost contact."

"Arky, I realize that I'm probably grasping at straws, here, but...never hurts to ask. Might you know any of the Cartwright family? Deirdre, Jason, Ricky or Ian? They're my folks and I'd like to find out what happened to them, if I can," she says.

"Also, would you happen to know Saul Anderson? He's...was...a cop with LVPD," she adds.

If Arky doesn't know them, she figures that she can always try the phone. Maybe. If her family thought she had died, they probably already turned off her phone, anyway. Evie fishes around in her pocket and finds the cell, flipping the cover open to check and see if it is getting any bars.

Hitoshi nods. "I might know why the Westview is a no go zone. Of I right, great, if I'm not, then oh well."

He dials the number for his shadow guards and waits.

(Evie)

Your phone still has a charge and a backlog of texts and voicemail, some from the Chief, several from Saul, and others from Ricky.

Evie begins to go through the backlog, hoping to gain some information about her loved ones.

_Just saw the news, figure you're busy. Stay safe, Sis._

_What a mess. Holler when you get a chance._

_Been several days. Mom's worried._

_Traced your phone. App shows you're at your place, but you're not. Used key. Your phone ain't there, either._

_Don't know what's going on, Evie. Family is together at home. Got supplies and everyone's safe and warm. Let you know if we have to move._

"I may not be as good as Artemis but I didn't take out both eyes of a troll by luck," Lya rolls her eyes before turning to Arky and proffering her flask. "Daughter of Dionysus actually. The Furies here are my Amazon guardians and friends. Is there anything I can do to help? Perhaps people need a reminder that we're all in this together."

"We're doing well here. It's a strong community, there's still doubt and fear as to what all of it means," Arky says. "Father Daniel calls it a test of faith, and he's right. Not just the god of the modern world, but for the rest of us, as well. A time to decide where we stand, and what we stand for. Who and what we protect. Drink your soup before it gets cold."

The soup is delicious, a classic recipe that bestows all of the legendary restorative powers of chicken soup. It is joined by slices of fresh-baked bread, still warm from the oven.

"If you're looking for family and friends, there's a tag board in the commons," Arky says. "And a memorial board in the sanctuary, though I don't remember seeing any Cartwrights on the latter. We trade messages and news with the other communities when we can. What's on the television is largely national. News crews stick close to the National Guard and the police."

* * *

(Hitoshi)

As you punch in the number, the answer comes without any noticeable delay or even a ring on the other end.

"What are your orders, Hitoshi-san?"

Evie gives a small sigh of relief. At least her family was safe when all of this started. Her parents' house is far enough out from the city proper that they should be fine, so long as they have supplies. Hopefully, all the neighbors banded together and have been watching over each other.

She figures that she can check the tag and memorial boards for Saul after they are done talking here.

"So, who exactly has put out this bounty on Alex?" she asks. Evie knows that it is Lyman and his crew, but she's not sure who he is working through, now, or if he's working openly. "Who is in the giant castle out there?"

Hitoshi blinks then looks at the phone. Glancing sideways at the others he moves to another room before answering.

"Tell me, how long have I been gone, and how much do you now know?"

"You may use whatever entrance you wish. The way will be cast in shadow."

"Thank you. Your service has been exemplary. I shall be there soon." Hitoshi closes the phone and walks back to the others.

* * *

"So if Fimbrulwinter and Ragnarok is here... then why bother keeping a bounty out on Alex if he doesn't still have a role to play?" Lya wonders. "Could there be a way to stop this, or are we just left to picking up the pieces?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking this can still be undone. Like you said, if it was all over, then why bother hunting for Alex at all?" she ponders. "Of course, we know he's the key to all of this. If he wasn't, then Lyman wouldn't be so hot and bothered over him. The question is: _how_ is Alex the key? What is he supposed to do?"

"Just short of seven months in human time, Hitoshi-san," is the reply. "The Invisible Hand of the Goddess Izanagi is protecting your domain. You, and those you designate, may travel freely within the Westview Grand; all others are in suspension."

"Though it is a bold stroke, It is merely the opening move in a much larger war," Arky says. "The Titans have not shown themselves. They will let human nature do their work. Doubt and fear will give way to aggression. They'll lash out, at each other, then at us, because they don't know what else to do."

"It's not that Alex is fated to do something; you all are. The Son of Tyr, who bound the Fenris wolf. A singer who binds people with words of inspiration. A daughter of Heimdall. Humans may aspire to the

Hitoshi nods to himself. "I figured that your people might have a hand in the protection of the Westview grand. I shall be there soon, but I hear the military has it surrounded. I assume you have a few entrances my companions and I can use."

He clears his throat. "I'm going to be leaving for the Westview grand. I understand if the rest of you do not wish to go with me."

Evie considers the offer, "Well, I would say yes but...what of Douglas? We know that he was connected to Lyman. If he's still hanging out there, that could be a problem."

"Lyman might know that we are back. He might not. I'd just as soon not tip our hand before we have to," she says. "The bounty could've been put out as soon as he knew Alex was gone and has just been a standing order, since."

"Plus, if Lyman also knows we went to Hel's domain, then he's just waiting for us to poke our heads back out, too."

"If we do go to the Grandview," she continues, "I want to check the boards before we leave."

She looks to Lya and Alex, waiting to see what they have to say.

"I'll go. The rest of you came looking for me, I'm not about to turn my back on you," Alex says. "Lya, you said you were in touch with that dwarf? I seem to recall him saying something about forging stuff."

"Yeah, he seems to be quite the crafter from his card and the foundation we saw them building anyway. I'm needing to call him too as I've got an idea."

Lya bites her thumbnail as she ponders Arky's words. "This kind of downer is going to require a show like no other...and we'll need to make it perfect..."

"If it's safe, Lya, heading to the Grandview might be the best immediate course of action," Klepto advises as she grasps her shoulder to get her attention. "At least until we can make a plan."

Lya looks up at the Amazon and nods before turning to address Arky. "I can't thank you guys enough for the aid. I think we need to talk later about putting together a show, Arky. With your art, our music and perhaps the assistance of a certain dwarf and his sons perhaps we can give the people something other than fear to unify them."

"I'm all for heading to the Grandview for now, " Lya says to Evie, "but I've got some ideas for staging our coming out party." She chuckles."Of course it may be moot if we can't find our gear in this chaos."

Hitoshi bows to the man known as Arky. "I thank you for your assistance, should you need it in the future, I will do my best to return the favor. I assume we will need cold weather gear, or is there a warmer way to get to my casino?"

"The Grandview, it is," Evie says, not about to break up the band. In all honesty. she had no idea where else to go, anyway. This whole thing just gets more and more over-whelming. But, she's not about to back down from the challenge.

At Lya's words, Evie smiles, "People are going to need that. Do everything you can to drive out the cold, Lya. I can't help with music because...stone cold tone deaf, my friend. But, I can help you move stuff around, if it's needed. I got your back. Non-musically. Silently, in fact."

"Thanks for all your help, Arky. If you need us, you know where we will be," she sets aside her now empty bowl and stands. "Can you guys give me a minute?"

She gestures towards the door, intent on going out and checking the boards before they set out.

"Yes. We have snow gear. I'm afraid you'll have to walk, unless you know someone with a ride. We have a couple of vehicles set aside and out of the snow, but fuel is scarce, so we only use them for emergencies," Arky says.

* * *

(Evie)

The board isn't as depressing as it sounded. It's less about the missing and more about skills and support. People who cook, people who sew, people who teach, people who build, and people who are simply willing to lend their efforts to whatever task is at hand.

The names of the dead include several casualties from the night of the fire, and a dozen or so victims of exposure.

The names of the missing include your own photo - a cropped candid shot that tells you who, exactly, posted your name. Alex's photo is also there, though a note taped beneath advises anyone spotting Alex to speak to Arky or Father Daniel immediately.

"Detective Cartwright?" someone asks from behind. "Is it ... it's you."  
You turn, and it takes you a moment to recognize who it is, because the last time you saw him, he was sporting saggy pants and a slouch.

Charles Cooper.

Taller in appearance now from the simple expedient of standing up straight and squaring his shoulders, Charles is no longer a lackadaisical sort, but defined by a purpose. He is wearing cold-weather gear, and a backpack emblazoned with a Red Cross.

"Charles!" Evie's face breaks into a bright smile of relief at seeing the young man. She walks over to him and, despite only knowing him through Saul, catches him in a brief hug. She steps back and holds his shoulders as she looks at him.

Time, for her, stood still while in Hel's realm. A day, maybe, has passed. And even though the world itself has changed drastically...the snow, the neighborhoods...it's the changes in the people that truly drive home exactly how much time has passed.

"You look like you are doing well," she says, her eyes falling to the Red Cross on his pack. "How are you? How is Saul?"

For a moment, her smile falters slightly, her mind running down another course. She had been prepared to leave a small, inconspicuous note of her passing through. It was to be something that someone who knew her might recognize, but nothing that simply stated _Evie Cartwright wuz here!_

_Shit,_ Evie thinks. _Word can't get out that we are back. Not yet. Not until we have a plan and are ready to go round two with the bastard._

She hadn't expected to run into anyone that she knew. Still, the detective can't deny that it warms her heart to see a familiar face.

"I'm well. I did a lot of thinking after the trial," he says. "Wasn't easy, but I turned my back on the gang and walked away. I'm helping Arky run patrols, bring in stragglers, keeping an eye on things. The storm, all this - it's really been a lesson on what community and family are."

"Saul drops by once a month. Police are stretched thin, and most of them are with the guard on the front lines."

"I guess I stopped blaming others. My Dad, my teachers, the 'system,'" Charles says. "All this? This just makes me glad I turned things around. When the snows hit, the gang broke into stores and stole things. Stupid things, like big-screen TVs. Easy pickings. But then the governor called out the National Guard, and shit got serious."

"Arky and Father Daniel will welcome just about anyone, but the gang? Wouldn't pitch in, wouldn't stand watch, wouldn't do shit. They were shown the door."

Evie smiles and nods as she moves to lean against the board. She stuffs her hands in her pockets and hunches her shoulders against the cold. She may be wearing a coat, now, but she's still wearing a T-shirt underneath.

"I'm glad for you, Charles. As hard as it may have been, it was the best thing you could've done. I'm proud of you. You've grown," she says. "I'm just sorry that so much of that growth happened because of...this." She waves a hand at the town, the snow...the world. "Crazy shit."

"How's your mom?" she asks.

Evie sighs, "Well, I hope that at least some of the gang came to their senses and have changed their ways. This isn't the sort of thing you survive alone or with frenemies."

She cocks her head to the side, almost unconsciously sliding back into detective mode, "Just out of curiosity, did any of the gang contact you after all of this happened?"

"At first, yeah," Charles tells you. "Then they got kind of ... weird when the frost giants put up the wanted poster for Alex. Stopped calling me a traitor and started calling me a word I didn't recognize. A-something."

Evie's eyes narrow, "Aesir?"

_Surely not. It has to some Spanish word that I'm not thinking of. It's been way too long since high school Spanish...and they didn't teach the fun words,_ she thinks.

"Say that again," Charles asks.

"Aesir," you repeat.

"That's it. Kind of hard to look it up when the public library is buried in a snow drift and there's no internet. What language is it? What's it mean?"

She chuckles and says, "Well, I doubt the Lobos know what it means, either. It's not an insult. It basically means 'relating to the Nordic gods.' Thor, Odin, Heimdall...all those guys."

She sighs. Inwardly, she knows that it makes sense. If any part of the Lobos are still working for Lyman, they would be picking up the culture, so to speak. And, since Alex is a known Aesir and he got Charles off the hook...they would peg him for an ally.

More than likely, the Lobos don't truly understand what it means and are throwing it around as nothing more than an insult. Still, it means that Charles needs to stay quiet about meeting her. Even though the Lobos are not hanging out here and Charles doesn't associate with them any longer...well...better safe than sorry.

Evie looks Charles in the eye and says, "I need you to do me a favor. I need you to keep quiet about seeing me." She rubs a hand through her hair and shakes her head. "I'm in some deep shit, Charles. And it's something that I don't want you or anyone else to get caught up in. I need to keep my head low...for now."

Her face falls and it's clear that this pains her, but it is the way it has to be, "I'll find Saul and explain everything to him when either things are safer or they all blow up to the point where it doesn't matter, anymore. But, for now, this is between you and me. Okay?"

"That sounds like the bullshit I'd tell my mom," he says. "'It's something I have to work out on my own,' and the only thing I was doing was digging a deeper hole. So, like, here's the thing. Don't let yourself get buried. You need help, people around here will help. I'll help. Arky and Father Daniel will help."

The corners of Evie's eyes crinkle up as she smiles softly. She doesn't laugh or dismiss what he said. After all, it came from the right place. She's glad that he spoke up, "I'm not alone, Charles. I have a lot of help. But, what I and my friends are caught in is something that I don't want to entangle you, Saul or any of my family. Arky is helping already. I'm not sure about Father Daniel. While I've been out here, another of my team may have been talking to him."

She turns back to the board, reaching up to idly tap the picture of herself. It's a shot of her on a boat, holding up a really, terribly sad little fish and striking a dramatic pose, as though this was Jaws she landed. Saul took it on one of their outings.

"I had come out here to leave a small message for Saul...just in case. But, I'm thinking better of it. Now is not the time. Not yet," she smiles. "I miss the dork."

"Like I said, he swings by once a month," Charles says. "The police and the guard are pretty busy. They're letting us be mostly because they don't have a better solution."

She nods, "I'll be gone before he gets up here. I think we're leaving as soon as possible. I don't know if that means now or tomorrow."

Her gaze strays back to the picture. The corner of her mouth turns up and she chuckles as an idea occurs to her. Looking down, she finds a pen that is left by the board for everyone to use. She leans against the board as she begins to draw a tiny figure on the picture, right smack in the middle of her shirt.

Quickly, a sketch begins to form of a tiny rabbit-lion thing...an evee! She places a dapper tophat upon its head and a monocle over one eye. Down in the corner of the picture, mostly hidden from view by other messages, she places a small heart.

Hopefully, it will be clear to Saul. She was here. She loves him. To anyone else who didn't know about the shirt he gave her for her birthday years ago, it's just a doodle. (And whoever sees it also has to know Pokemon.)

She steps back and admires her work with a grin. Setting the pen back where she found it, she turns back to Charles. She catches him in another hug, patting him companionably upon the back before letting him go.

"Speaking of leaving, I should go back to the others and figure out what we are doing. If I don't see you again, you take care of yourself, okay? Keep doing what you are doing. You're a good man," she claps him on the shoulder and turns, headed back into the building where she spoke with Arky and where the others, presumably, wait.

* * *

(Lya)

"I can tell you I've never been happier that leather pants and boots are in fashion," Lya chuckles wryly.

"So are you able to still paint with all this going on? I've got to say, your painting down in the tunnels was breathtaking... and probably provided a symbol of something better for a lot of people. They could probably use something like that topside, you know? We could take over a gym where you could paint one of the walls, throw in some music from us, and make it like a community building food drive thingy to help boost the spirits."

"I'm working in the Sanctuary. It used to be a fabric store, I think. We've re-purposed it for our infirmary, classrooms, housing for the families with small children," Arky says. "A mural showcasing human history, human achievement. Got some of the kids helping me, keeps their hands busy and their minds off the darkness outside."

"Schools are abandoned. National Guard swept through, relocated folks behind their picket line. Some of the hotels on the Strip took folks in, and there are a number of small groups like ours."

Hitoshi nods at the mention of walking. "Then perhaps I should make the journey alone and come back for you all once a vehicle can be obtained. " He says to Lya and the others.

"I won't tell you that you can't," Arky says. "We have cross-country skis - homemade, I'm afraid - wood shelving, wax. Maps that'll give you the best route to the Westview.

"Like I said, National Guard's main outpost is smack-dab in the middle of the Strip, so you'll run into their patrols for sure."

"I don't like the thought of us splitting up Hitoshi. If something goes wrong out there there's no way we'd be able to get to you in time." Lya replies. "What about the sewer tunnels? Could we travel underground?"

Lya turns back to Arky. "I'm no fighter, Arky... I'm a singer who likes to remind people that we're all in this life together. If that might help keep the Titans at bay, then I'll sing till I lose my voice."

"Sewer tunnels are out," Arky says. "If you think we're cold up here, down there? It's a walk-in freezer. And there are worse things than ice giants down there."

"If you want to go as a group, we'll break out a vehicle. We can't spare the gear for a one-way trip."

"If you want to put on a show, then I have a surprise for you," Arky smiles. "Come with me."

He leads you into one of the storefronts that have been converted into storage.

"The van is snowed in, but we took everything else," he said.

He whips a tarp off of one pile to reveal all of your instruments and gear.

"All right!" Orithia and Toxic cheer as Phoebe smiles and Klepto lifts Arky off his feet in a bear hug.

"Ok, Klepto... I think he's turning blue," Lya chuckles as she runs her hand lovingly over the instruments. "This is fantastic, Arky. Now to really make this work all we need is a location with some good natural acoustics, because I imagine electricity might be kinda scarce, eh?"

Lya scratches her head for a moment. "If the schools are off limits... what about one of the hotels? They should have rooms large enough to play in, right?"

"We have plenty of room in the Sanctuary," Arky tells you. "Hotels, I don't know. Rooms, certainly, but no one's throwing power around. Vegas is actually kind of dark."

"Which leads me to my next question," he says, looking at Hitoshi. "What we have here is workable, but it's not going to be a long-term solution. If you have an in with the Westview people, can we work something out?"

"Well if the Grandview ends up being a suitable place for a new shelter for people then maybe that's where we should have our coming out party," Lya theorizes as the Furies check over the instruments for damage. "Not only that... but if we're going to make the trek for the Grandview it might make more sense to go as a group. We could help protect you guys, and it would help Alex blend into the crowd, you know?"

"Oh my poor baby... you need a tuning, don't you?" Orithia mutters as she hugs her guitar.

Hitoshi scratches his chin, which is now developing a 5 o'clock shadow, and thinks for a moment. After about a minute he replies.

"I will be honest. I currently have free passage for myself and my companions. We will be allowed in. Anyone else will not. I do not know what the situation is over at the Westview, and until I can ascertain that, I can make no promises about shelter for anyone other than us. I'm not even sure I own the Westview anymore so the decision may not be mine to make."

"Weren't you just talking to people over there on the phone?" Lya asks. "What did you guys talk about... china patterns? Why not call them back and find out before we all go treking over there for nothing?"

Hitoshi shrugs. "I figured the full situation might need to be checked over rather than dragging a bunch of survivors to a place where they might not be allowed in, or want to go, say due to Izanagi making it her own domain. And no, it wasn't something I wanted to discuss over the phone because where Lyman is concerned; anything is possible including hearing our cellphone conversations somehow."

He pulls out his cellphone again.

"However, for you, I shall make another call."

He stops over into the other room and dials the number.

"It's Hitoshi again. We have Refugees that need a bastion of Safety to go to. What is the situation of the Westview? Has Izanagi made it her personal domain, or do I still own it to do with as I please?"

"You will want to visit first, Hitoshi-san. The property has been preserved; there have been no changes to its ownership," you are told.

"If you are faced with transportation difficulties, assemble those allies you wish to bring with you. Find a doorway that is in shadow, and call."

"Understood. Thank you. I shall call back momentarily." He closes the phone and steps back into the room.

"It is recommended that only myself and my allies visit first. Transportation is handled, I just need a doorway that is in a dark room."

He looks between Lya and Arky.

"IF the Westview is suitable for refugees, I give my word that you and yours will have whatever shelter I can provide."

"Certainly sounds better than trekking back and forth in the snow now doesn't it?" Lya chuckles as she pats Hitoshi on the back. "Let's wrap up the reunion girls... we've got business to take care of."

Hitoshi walks over to the side room and looks for a side door. Finding one he walks over to the wall and turns off the lights for that room.

"Okay girls, trains leaving. Put those legs in motion."

He pulls out his cellphone and dilas the number again.

"Go for this end..."

You _know_ the door leads to a storage closet. But the head of your unofficial security detail emerges from the shadowed portal and bows respectfully.

"Hitoshi-sama," he says. "You and your associates will need to link arms or hold hands."  
"There's no risk to my people, is there?" Arky says. "I don't want anyone following you through, even by accident."

"The only harm you will find in the shadows is that which you bring with you. The passage requires one of us to open, and it is not done lightly."

"All right. Good luck."

A chain formed by hands-on-shoulders is deemed best, and quickly executed.

The feeling is not unlike entering Hel's domain. There's a chill note to the air, different from the frost and snow outside. And the shadows have run rampant, turning the spacious lobby into an eerie promenade.

The lobby is full of people caught in mid-stride, their hands in mid-gesture. Smiles caught upon their faces. And then there's a group of six National Guardsmen, weapons at the ready - motionless.

An armored drone, mounted on treads, also sits a short distance within.

"Why do I feel like Darth Vader is going to come out from behind a corner?" Lya whispers as she rubs her arms.

"This place just reeks of Darkness," Toxic grunts. "I want a shower after walking through that even more than I did after the sewer."

"I don't know if I'd want to stay in a place like this," Phoebe adds. "Just seeing the people like mannequins... it's disturbing to say the least. Are they still alive? Will they stay like this forever?"

Klepto walks around the soldiers and gives a low whistle. "I don't know about you guys but some of this gear could certainly be useful. Do you think they'd mind? It's not like they're doing any good like this..."

"They are frozen in time," your guide tells you. "Unmoving, but unharmed. Unresponsive, but not unaware. Their fate is up to Hitoshi-sama."

"So this 'Darkness' is the only thing holding Lyman and his minions out of here... but it's also making it about as homey as the Bates Motel," Lya sighs in disappointment. "Well Hitoshi, this is all up to you dude."

Evie doesn't look any happier to be here than any of the others. However, she sighs and shrugs, "Creepy or not, it's probably the most secure place for us. We can plan here and not worry that Lyman is going to somehow get to us."

"I kind of doubt that Arky and his folk will want to stay here. Yeah, it's safe but...yeeech."

Hitoshi walks among the people for more than a few minutes. Finally he turns around.

"I think that the shadows will go away when we unfreeze the people though I am not sure. What I do know is that we can't leave these people like this. However, the situation is delicate and I don't think we should unfreeze everyone at once. Is it possible to unfreeze groups of people in succession so that the situation may be explained to them? I don't want anyone panicking and doing something stupid such as opening fire."

He looks over at the soldiers. "Klepto, if you can, gather their weapons and find a way to turn that drone off for now."

"Yes, it is possible to 'unfreeze' people selectively. For most, this will involve little or no discomfort - they will simply continue with whatever they were doing at the time.

Klepto nods and starts to collect the guardsmen's weapons, an impressive array* of rifles, sidearms, and tactical grenades. The drone is taken care of by cutting through several cables.

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. "You said for most. What about for the others? Actually, let's take this a step at a time.

One, I want these soldiers unfrozen first. However, I want the girls to be in position to taken them down gently should the need arise. Then the girls can fill them in, and once they understand what's going on, hopefully they will be on our side. Two, let's go floor by floor with the unfreezing. Lya and the girls should be good at helping with orientation as they are the most charismatic people I know. If anyone is an enemy, leave them frozen, we shall handle them last. Third, where's my mother and the board members?"

He pauses then pipes up again.

"Oh! Can we leave the shadow field active on the outside of the casino to prevent attacks? And yea, now I'd like to know about the whole 'most of them' statement." Again he falls silent waiting for an answer.

"Humans are complicated beings," your bodyguard says. "They come to this city, and to resorts such as the Westview, to indulge vices. This is not a judgment, merely a statement of fact. Depending on the nature of such activities, there may be some disorientation upon release."

"If you wish to maintain the barrier protecting the property, it shall be done. We immobilized people as it would be less problematic than forced confinement, even in a luxury resort."

Evie thinks for a bit before speaking up, "So, what are we going to tell these people? Also, are we going to allow them to leave or are they going to essentially be stuck here once they are unfrozen?"

"I mean, I know we ant to keep the barrier around the casino up. If we do that, then are people trapped here? If that is the case, we may end up with a lot of unhappy and hostile people who want to be able to go back to their families or...whatever."

"It's going to be difficult. Employees will want to find their families. People from out-of-town will want to go home, but the airport is closed, and the roads are covered in snow," Alex says. "Go outside, you're a guest of the National Guard, not only because you were caught in some of the general weirdness going on, but because Loki Jr. is using Fimbulwinter to tear down the social systems that mortals depend on."

"If they're _aware_ to some extent, maybe Lya needs to record a short message that we can loop over the building's PA system?"

"That's true that staying here would be the wisest course of action for them but people aren't always rational. If some folks insist on trying to leave, are we going to stop them?" Evie asks.

"I'm not sure we can," says Alex. "People are in for a shock no matter what they choose. Shelter-in-place here, or try to make sense of an end-of-days scenario from ancient Norse legend."

"Recorded stuff just doesn't have the same effect," Lya replies. "I do my best work when it's live. We can still give the message though so at least they can know what's going on."

She walks around the soldiers and ponders for a minute. "I agree we should unfreeze these guys first. Being military and all they might be the most difficult to convince... or who knows, they might've seen a lot of crazy shit already that they could fill us in on. That and we could fill them in on our plan to unfreeze the others so they could be ready to escort anyone who doesn't want to stay here to whatever shelters the National Guard has set up out there."

"I'm going to make myself scarce, then," Alex says. "Wait around the corner or something. I don't want these guys to go back to their CO and realize they saw the frost giants' most-wanted."

"Good point," says Toxic. "We don't know who's going to turn tail and run to Lyman after they find out their world has been totally changed. We're going to have to keep Alex scarce and nix any talk about him when dealing with everyone else."

"I suppose we could find one of the hair salons, give me a dye job and a faux-hawk," Alex smiled. "Then again, staying out of sight is probably easier."

"Oh, Alex...I ran into Charles back at the camp. I thought you might like to know that you made a huge difference in his life. He left the gang and is currently helping Arky. He's helping find stragglers out in the storm and bring them to safety," Evie smiles.

"I did a little digging and it sounds like Lyman is probably still using the Lobos as fodder. I don't know that it makes any difference, now, but.." Evie shrugs. "Better to know it than not."

"Good to hear Charles has turned things around," Alex smiles. "That's what all this is about, really. A second chance for humanity."

"But you'd look so good as a blonde," Orithia pouts as Klepto chuckles.

Hitoshi chuckles. "I'm going to leave the hair dyeing of Alex to you gals."

He spins around, his face suddenly serious.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, lets get moving. We have a hotel full of people to unthaw and give orientation to, and a whole bunch of Refugees to bring in. I want all this done in three days if possible."

He points to the Furies. "Girls, places. Lets get these soldiers unthawed." At the same time he tosses Alex his Penthouse key. "Alex, you can either help, or stay out of the way, your choice. That key will take you to the Penthouse. DON'T drink too much of the booze please. Oh wait, Lya does that Nevermind." He grins and gives Lya a wink.

"Bodyguards. I just realized I need names and stuff so I can stop calling you Bodyguards and give you the respect you deserve. However, that will have to wait. I need you to unthaw those people important to the running of the Casino and it's maintenance."

He snaps his fingers and turns to Lya. "That reminds me Lya, we are going to need your dwarf friend. This place is in serious need of an upgrade." He sighs. "And now I have to find and have a long sit down with my mother. I'd rather Fight Lymann."

Lya snaps her fingers. "First off we exchanged cards in the middle if a sewer so we're not exactly buddies. Second off, we agreed to thaw out the military first did we not? Shouldn't we do that before sending off your bodyguards to wake people up? One thing at a time right? And what's with the fucking deadline all of a sudden; you got somewhere to go? Third if I wanted to drink alcohol I'd drink my own, thank you very much, and lastly..." she snaps her fingers again, "we are not your bodyguards or your servants... we are your damn friends so you'd better get that straight before you _ever_ order me around again... got it? If you think just because we're in your hotel you think you can act like that towards me and my friends then I'm out of here quicker than you can say "I should've asked nicely."

Toxic gives a low whistle as Klepto grins and crosses her arms over chest.

"All I need is to stay out of view from the military," says Alex. "Word will eventually get out that I'm here, and I may have to leave or turn myself in to the Guard if it brings unwanted attention to your door, Hitoshi."

Your principal bodyguard bows. "You may call me _Heishi,_ Hitoshi-sama. These are Kage, Yurei, and Fukusei.*"

Hitoshi gives Lya a weird look and shakes his head. "Now hold on Lya, I'm just outlining what we as a group need to do to get this place going. I'm not ordering anyone around. And I wasn't commenting to you about the booze, I know you prefer your own stuff. That comment was to Alex. We are all stressed right now. Things are weird right now, and YES, for the fourth or fit time military gets thawed out first. We don't need all my guards here for six soldiers. The furies can easily handle them especially since Klepto took their weapons and gear. As for the dwarf, you are on better terms with him than I am, but if you like, give me the number, and I will make the call. It's all good, and it's gonna be okay."

"Don't drink too much of the booze... oh wait Lya does that' I believe is what you said amongst other things, Hitoshi." Lya mutters. "I think your mother is showing."

Hitoshi starts laughing. "That... is a truly scary thought Lya however, I was making a joke about how you like to party, and no, I honestly don't find anything wrong with it, in fact we all may need to tie a few on after all this work, even me. However we will also have to take stock of stores and ration them at some point, but before we do, I plan on throwing a banquet fir the refugees. Anyways, can you think of anything else we should do, emphasis on WE, or are we ready to bust this popsicle stand?" He pauses. "Oh, and Alex, we lost you once before. I'll die before any enemy takes you away again. I haven't known you long, but I consider you a friend, and I stand by my friends... even if they sometimes get angry with me."

"I think between the Furies and you guys, you've got the military covered. I can stay with Alex," Evie says. She shrugs and turns to the son of Tyr. "Not that I don't think you can take care of yourself. I mean, hell...in a straight-up fight, I know you are better than me. But, I don't think any of us need to be alone, at this point."

"Slightly better," Orithia whispers as she nudges Phoebe's shoulder and chuckles.

"Well if we're all cool then they can start with these guys once you all have gone to the room," Lya adds.

"I'm just going to stand over here," Alex says. He positions himself partway down the ramp that slopes down onto the casino floor, pulls out his smartphone, and looks like another tourist frozen in place.

When everyone is in position, Hitoshi nods to Heishi. The six guardsmen comprise a command-and-control element of two officers, and a tactical element of four. The transition from living statue to aware and moving is nearly instantaneous. Fingers twitch over triggers that are no longer there, and one of the officers reaches for a now-missing sidearm.

"National Gu-" his words die off in mid-shout. He glares at Hitoshi. "Explanations. Now."

"Woah guys... it's all good...it's all good..." Lya replies as she holds her hands out palms down and gestures for them to calm down. The Furies stand beside her ready to act, but with their hands visible to the men so they know they aren't armed.

"Nobody's going to hurt anybody... we're all just trying to help people, ok? Why don't you tell us the last thing you remember and we'll tell you what we know, and then we can all figure this out together?"

"You startled us, Miss," the lead officer says, which is an elegant bit of bullshit. He's scanning the room for threats, and clearly wondering what happened to his rifle and sidearm. "Why don't we all return to our command post?"

"Before you guys head out," Lya replies, "there are a bunch of people here in the hotel that we're trying to wake up and they might need some help. How about we all chill for a minute and sit and have a drink while my friend here goes about waking up everyone else? That way we can share some info, get our bearings, and my other friend here can give you all your gear back."

"Thank you for the offer, Miss, but we're on duty," the officer says. "We'll have to pass on the drinks. Obviously, you removed our weapons because something strange is happening. We're in control, and we'll take them back, if you please."

"You're sure? Your loss, guys. Goodness knows with all the crazy going on I sure could use one." She pulls out her flask and takes a drink with one hand while she gestures to Klepto and Toxic with the other.

"So tell me... what were you guys doing here? We came here for shelter from the snow and because Mr. Ryder there wanted to see what happened to his hotel. Turns out everyone in here was re-enacting that bit from Sleeping Beauty so we figured we'd try and break the curse." she puts her hands on her hips as she cocks her hip to one side and smiles seductively. "I must say I prefer playing Prince Charming if all the Sleeping Beauties look like you gentlemen."

There's a clacking of metal as Toxic removes the ammo from the weapons and hands the guns to Klepto.

"Here you go guys... all in good working order. Gotta say I like your choice of the Beretta... that's a classic reliable piece right there," Klepto says as she hands out the guns. "You can have your ammo back when you leave."

One of the tactical team actually blushes, but spoils the moment somewhat by ogling Klepto.

"Miss, when the jewel of the desert ends up buried in snow and a castle appears out of nowhere, there's no doubt something strange is going on," the commanding officer says. "The Westview began shimmering in and out of sight, like something from a science-fiction movie. We were sent to investigate and, from what you tell us, wound up playing Sleeping Beauty."

"So, let's just call the kiss a done deal, and you can tell us what you know."

Hitoshi uncrosses his arms and smiles.

"Gentlemen, Hi, Hitoshi Ryder. I own this Casino. I appreciate you coming to check on everyone here while I was gone and unable to be here. Look, I'm going to be straight with you. For reasons unknown, you and everyone here has been asleep for months. There's also enough snow outside to label this area a crisis zone. I understand the need to get back to your unit. However, it's cold as fuck outside, and by cold as fuck, I mean nine feet of snow, and negative ten. Probably a lot colder than when your unit arrived and there's a possibility that your batteries on your vehicles might be drained due to the cold.. I'm not saying you can't leave. Gods no. I'm just saying be smart about it. Radio in first, see if your unit is still around. They may have bugged out. If they happen to still be around then we can figure out how to get you guys home. Also, as my friends say, we have civilians here that may want to leave and will need an escort. Once again, I'm not saying you can't leave, I'm just saying be smart about it and do what you can from inside here where it's warm."

He looks over at the lower windows covered in shadow, then turns toward Heishi.

"Heishi, do we have an area where these fine gentlemen can see the conditions outside without actually freezing their tails off?"

"Hai, Hitoshi-san. You can see outside from the Concourse shops and restaurants. If these men wish to go higher, they will have to climb the stairs. The elevators do not seem to be working just yet."

"Okay, thank you, Mr. Heishi. Miller, Andrews, go with him. If your radios work, call into the CP. If we're snowed in, we're going to be staying put for a bit."

He turns back to Hitoshi.

"Do you have any idea what's going on, Ryder? I don't want to push people out into the cold if they're safe here for the moment. In fact, we were looking into the possibility of resorts cooperating with the Guard to provide shelter. We don't have much cold weather gear here."

Hitoshi spreads his hands and again smiles. "I suggest we take things one step at a time. Lets see if you can contact your people first. As for sheltering people, we were planning on doing that as soon as we figure out the whole story, and unthaw everyone here first. Those that wish to go home, we will do our best to help do so. After that, well lets just say we have a lot of work to do here at the Westview. Noone is really sure what is going on. Maybe it's a pole shift or something. Maybe it will clear up, maybe it won't. No one is really sure."

The last part was a lie, but Hitoshi wasn't about to tell them that Gods were battling for control of the world through their children... yet.

"Pole shift," mutters the officer, his tone openly skeptical. "Uh-huh. Okay, how about you level with me? In order to do what's best for everyone, we're going to need accurate information, and I'm hearing a lot of wait-and-see. What do _you_ know about this? If you don't know anything, we'll move on from there, but you might not like how that goes."

Hitoshi rolls his eyes. "Well what do YOU think happened? I gave my best theory, and you don't want it, so lets heard your ideas and maybe between us, two and two just might equal four at some point cause right now, your guess is probably as good as mine." He gives the man a bit of the patented Hitoshi glare.

"Shouldn't we be worrying about the people right now instead of trying to place blame?" Lya reminds them as she points outside. "We left a lot of people out there in the cold not caring if it's the fault of global warming or a vengeful gods... all they care about is if the hotel would work as a refuge. I'm sure they're all going to want to know what's going on too... so let's focus on waking the people up here and getting the people stuck outside relocated and _then_ we can have a good ol' town meeting and discuss it. Sound good to you guys?"

"Son, you keep giving me this, 'well, what do you think happened?' routine. What I think is that you're up to your ears in this and you're stalling me for time," the officer says. "We were sent to investigate this building. If you want to play coy and pretend you don't know anything, great. Get out of our way and let us do our job. At this time, you will return all of our equipment, and that is not a request."

He meets your patented glare with its military equivalent. There's a brief crackle from his radio, which apparently still functions, the batteries having been 'frozen' along with everything else.

"Ell-Tee, door we came in through is clear. Looks like the boys are using hazmat tunnels and air blowers," comes the report.  
"Copy that, return to post, we are at general quarters," the officer says. He flicks his radio to change channels. "Base, Guard Six Actual, we're back, preparing to exfil. Site is unsecured, possibly hostile."

"Look, I'm tired of waiting to see if you guys are going to stop comparing your dick size or just kiss and make up already," Lya continues as she gestures over her shoulder with her thumb. "There are about to be a lot of scared and confused people here so I think the rest of us might go ahead and _help people_ while you two struggle to get over yourselves."

"Calling us hostile..." Lya mutters to herself as she walks away. "They're the ones with weapons threatening people..."

"Yes Lya, continue with the releasing of the others. That's actually a great idea." Hitoshi says turning and smiling. He then turns back to the officer.

"I can see that you and I are getting nowhere with this as we are, so I offer a solution. I will tell you and ONLY you whats going on. Your men wait here and help my friend with the rest of the guests until you and I return. You may have back your ammo and equipment, but once again, only you. They don't get their stuff back until if and when you all do indeed leave if you decide to leave at all. Those are my terms. You and I have a walk and chat, or if you wish to leave, you know where the door is, but once you leave you won't be allowed back in. I have to protect my guests and any refugees that may decide to stay here."

He crosses his arms. "I'll give you a moment to think on it."

The officer responds with a confident tone that suggests he is a career officer or holds some other position of authority in civilian life.

"Miller, Andrews, get back down here," he says. "The rest of you, prepare to return to base. If I'm not back in five, proceed without me. If you don't hear from me in an hour, mark the site as declining assistance and proceed accordingly."

Surprisingly, he declines the offer of ammunition.

"Since everyone else is playing statues, let's just take it over there*," he says, nodding towards the steps down onto the casino floor."

Hitoshi nods and leads the way to a blackjack table and sits down in the dealers spot. Pulling out his almost empty pack of smokes, he lights one up and offers one to the officer. When the man declined he left the pack and lighter on the table between them.

"Okay, first off, I need at some point in this conversation for you to tell me what you yourself already know. I've been away for apparently months and actually just got back..."

He looks at his watch.

"About two hours ago I'd guess? I'm not really sure. What I do know is that there's a man out in Vegas by the name of Jason Lymann. He thinks he's the son of Loki the trickster god."

He inhales the smoke and blows it out.

"What I do know is the fucker has it in for me and my friends. He's attacked us at every turn using a gang called The Lobos. He's the one that had that castle built, and while I'm not sure he's the cause of the weather, I bet he knows what is."

"What we know, Mr. Ryder, is that this is not an isolated event. There have been incidents across the United States, not just snow storms, but other phenomenon that fit into various legends of the World's End. We apparently have the Nordic? Norse? version of things," the officer says. He picks up the deck and fiddles with it, a quick shuffle and one-handed cut. But, then, it _is _Vegas.

"You're ahead of me with names, although the folks in the castle are looking for a gentleman named Alex North, who was recently with the District Attorney's office, but quit to return to private practice," he says. "He was also the target of a drive-by shooting by these gang members late last year, and since that happened _here,_ you may at least be familiar with the name."

Lya takes out her phone and the platinum card again as she dials Hrofgar's number. "This hotel is going to need some quick remodeling if we're going to take in all these people..." she mutters to herself.

Hitoshi takes another puff. "I've heard of the name. I've even met him once due to that incident."

He leans over to a cocktail waitress who's frozen with drinks to be delivered on her tray and pulls one off and takes a swig.

"Ah, the classic Rum and Coke. good enough."

He sets the glass down.

"Okay, fine, you've seen enough strange that what I'm going to say might seem normal."

He takes another puff.

"The weather isn't natural. Something or someone is causing it. Do I know who? No. I wish I did because I fucking hate the cold. As for my Casino, I came back here just today as I said, and found the place covered in a shadow field thing, and the people inside frozen."

Another sip of Rum and coke goes down the hatch.

"I called my security people and they told me they could get me past the shadows. My friends and I got inside and that's when we encountered you and your men frozen like everyone else. Apparently we can thaw everyone out though and thats what we plan on doing. We'd like the help doing so. After that we are going to see about taking in any refugees we can."

Stubbing the cigarette out in an ashtray he leans back in the chair.

"As to how the shadows are done or the people frozen, ask my security guys. I sure as hell wish I could pull that trick."

"All right, then. Thank you for sharing that information with us," he answers. "I'll consult my superiors and see if there's a long-term strategy for shelter and support. If it's deemed advisable, we may ask resort owners to support us in the endeavor, though tower-based hotels might not be workable with sub-zero temperatures."

He sets down the deck of cards. "Fuck. Getting my ass shot off in Baghdad was a walk in the park compared to this. Sir."

He turns and walks towards the entrance, pausing to collect his gear from Klepto. "Thank you, Miss."

Lya cups the receiver on her phone as she's currently on hold. "Seriously, mister... we're just trying to figure this out like you are," she calls out to the soldier as he walks by. "We were away for a few months and when we came back to town we found out the end of the world had started without us."

She takes him by the arm and gives him an earnest look. "We're just trying to make the best of a really bad situation and make sure nobody else suffers at the hands of a lunatic with daddy issues. We're on your side here."

"Several of my soldiers are Asatru, Miss. Thor worshipers. They _believe _it's the end of the world," the lieutenant says. "Other men in my unit are Christian and aren't happy about any of this. So, respectfully, I don't have time to play 'I don't know,' with Mr. Ryder. I have civilians freezing their asses off, a city that's been immobilized, and the breakdown of systems that would otherwise support us. The Guard as well as the civilian populace."

"What my superiors know is that I was MIA for several months. I have no idea what they've decided or planned," he adds. "We might even be under martial law. It's a delicate situation, and I agree with you that this puts all of Las Vegas at risk. I can't change that if I go back with a handful of 'I don't know' and a suggestion we all sit around the campfire."

"I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. The truth is, people want answers we don't have, reassurances we can't give, and they're staring down a big religious question mark. Cuts right to the core. You appear to understand this can go south really fast. Don't be so quick to say you're on my side, because 'my side' might be wrong."

He sighs heavily and motions at the casino floor. "I sincerely hope my superiors haven't gotten it into their heads that _this_ is a bigger problem than _that._"

He waves towards the general direction of the Ice Palace, then starts heading for the door. He stops.

"Oh, and when you thaw out Mr. North, over there, please tell him we'd like to speak to him."

At this point, Evie considers relaxing. However, she will follow Alex's lead. He may want to "unfreeze" after everyone is gone and she doesn't want to foil any plans he may have.

"The last person who said that blew up a city block and killed innocent people in order to 'talk to Alex' before holing himself up in a castle and bringing about the end of days. I honestly don't know why he's doing this or what part Alex plays in all of this... all I know is that he's put the lives of countless innocent people in danger and killed many more, he's not planning on stopping, and he's sitting pretty in a castle while you and your superiors _aren't doing anything about it!_"

Lya walks up to the soldier and pokes him in the chest. "So tell me mister..._what's wrong with that picture?_ Instead of going back to your superiors, I suggest you go back to your Asatru men and listen up real fucking good to what they have to say. Maybe then you can figure out whose side you _should_ be on."

"You see? You do know something about what's going on, don't you? If you expect me to be able to have input into what my superiors do or do not do, I need information, not roundabout stories about 'gee, we just got here.' Because, Miss, _so did I._ It's an afternoon in mid-January as far as I know, and you know _that's_ not true.

"If you think I'm ignoring my men, you're mistaken. They came to me the moment this town became a snow fort. Why? Because they trust me. I don't know what you're holding back, or what you think you're protecting, but this song-and-dance number about how you really don't know anything isn't helping. But I'm the stubborn one, apparently.

"You see, when I go back outside, I'm likely going to be hearing orders from people who also don't have good information, people who then decide where me and my boys get to die. I've got an AR-15 and a sidearm. I'm facing people who blow up city blocks and drop castles out of nowhere. So maybe this is Thimblewinter or whatever they call it. Come down from Valhalla or wherever you live and understand there are a lot of scared people - not just civilians, but officers and politicians and people in charge, who have never been on the front lines or under fire. Scared people make shitty decisions.

"So if you want to help, let's have it. Tell me what you _do_ know. Like anything you can tell me about Alex 'Son of Tyr' North over there, 'cause that's the only fucking thing our icy friends asked for."

He holds out his hands as if to make one last plea, and it's clear he won't wait for long.

"All I know is that whacko in the castle has it out to kill Alex and he won't stop at anything to do it. We went down into the sewers looking for him when Lyman blew up a city block to hide that he had him kidnapped, and when we came out again it was several months later and snowing. I think he plans on bringing about Ragnarok, but when it comes to that I had to look it up in a book just like you did."

She runs her hand through her hair. "I wasn't lying to you when I said I don't know what's going on. I'm not Asatru... hell I'm more Greek Orthadox than anything. All I know is that if Lyman wants Alex dead then by the gods I'm going to do whatever I have to keep him alive."

Hitoshi facepalms. "I fucking knew we should have just come out and said the whole story."

He kicks back away from the table. "Ok, yea fine screw it, I'm laying it out. Okay, I'm friends with Alex North. And of course those fuckers in the ice palace want him, he's a threat to Lymann and Lymanns plans to rule or destroy the world, so Lymann wants him dead. I have more news for your superiors, I'm not letting Lymann have him. Lymann wants me dead too I bet. When I said Lymann might be the son of Loki, I really meant is the son of Loki."

He paces the floor.

"Look, I apologize for stringing you along, but I had no idea how much you could be trusted. Mind you I'm still not one hundred percent sure on that issue, but one of us has to go out on the limb here. Lymann isn't the only child of a god here. My father I'd Hachiman, patron god of samurai and tactician of the Japanese pantheon. I was just going to take you up on the roof, and jump off then come back here to show I'm more than human, but you made that impossible. I can however do that if you still want me to prove what I'm saying, and if it will increase trust."

Evie relaxes from her position near Alex and says, "Or, you could just ask him to do something silly and harmless, like jumping jacks or cluck like a chicken or whatever. That's less work."

"In my book, trust is built on honesty, not jumping off roofs," he says. "So, the son of a Japanese god, the son of a Norse god, and all of the world's end stuff cropping up at once," he muses. "I imagine you have an interesting tale as well, Miss. Your friends, there, certainly look like they're up for a fight."

"It sure sounds like _someone_ wants us to believe it's the end of the world."

He nods at Alex, who is still pretending to be immobilized.

"I don't know exactly what my superiors are going to do, but I'm pretty sure 'lay down and die' ain't on the list. The snow bunnies, or whatever they are, they want him? Fine. They can't have him. I've never given up on any of my men, and I am not going to hand off a complete stranger on the say-so of a bunch of Tangos*," he says.

"Next part ain't going to be so easy. I imagine tracers and incendiary rounds, if we can get some, will hurt just as much as plain old bullets. And while I'm willing to accept your word on jumping off the roof, others might not be so open-minded, so just hold on to that one."

"Can you un-zap Mr. North for me? If I walk into the CP holding an ace, we might just get listened to," he says. "But I'd like to ask nicely."

"Like I said... Greek." Lya bows. "Lya Bach, Daughter of Dionysus at your service. This Ragnarok stuff is just as crazy to me as it is you, buddy. Alex is my friend though... and I don't abandon friends. You seem like a decent guy... but how do we know about anyone else out there? I wouldn't blame any of them if the thought of turning in Alex to try and end this crossed their minds... because I'm sure that's what he's leading people to believe."

"I don't think it's the end of the world...yet," Evie says. "I'm pretty sure that this is Fimbulwinter, the lead up to the grand event. Which means that we can still stop it."

She shakes her head and adds, "We're still working on the 'how' part of that equation, though. I'm afraid being the child of a god doesn't exactly come with instructions."

She seems to think for a bit and says, "Look, I trust that you wouldn't hand over Alex. But, we don't know which side of things those in power land on, now. Too much time has passed. Lyman could've bought and killed his way into too many positions of influence, at this point. I don't want him walking into a viper's nest."

"I know that I'm not as valuable as Alex, but perhaps I could go with you instead? Just to sort of feel things out?" she steps forward and offers her hand to the soldier to shake. "LVPD Detective Evie Cartwright, daughter of Heimdall."

"Unthaw Alex... sure. We can do that, and then let him decide if he wants to go with you." Hitoshi visibly relaxes.

"Heshi, unfreeze mister North please. Thank you."

He looks back over at the others. "Look officer, I'm willing to bring refugees in here and help them, I'm even willing to bring in the military, but I will say this now. If the military sets up here they won't be ordering me or my friends or personnel around. If we do this, it will be a joint deal. I speak for the casino, Lya if she wants can speak for the people, and the military can have its representative. Frankly, if this is to work I'd like you to be said rep. However, we will deal with that should you and your men come back from reporting in. If the military is okay with that, then they can send you guys back to help out."

"Honored to meet you, Detective Cartwright; Miss Bach," he says. "Lieutenant Nicholas Drake, Army National Guard, previously with the 7th Light Infantry. I'm good being a plain old non-godly human being. Nothing wrong with that."

"But let's begin by returning the trust you've shown in me. If the chain of command has been compromised, we could lose two important allies," he tells Evie. "They know about North. Maybe they don't know about you, Miss Bach, or Ryder, other than something weird is going on at the Westview. I'll have the men who are Asatru - assuming they haven't been transferred out or given a Section 8 - work with me."

"Ryder, if you can get me some picture of how you stand, supply-wise, and how many people we can pack in here. If that force-field thing is in working order, it gives us something to stand on, as well."

Alex cracks his neck. "Okay, I might as well speak up. I'm here. Exactly as billed. Lieutenant, I'll go with you, but if I smell a rat, I've been known to throw cars around. Just saying."

"Are you sure about this, Alex?" Evie turns to her cousin with a concerned frown. "I mean, as soon as we start unfreezing people here and setting up camp, Lyman is going to know that we're back. The most probable answer to 'who affected the Westview' is Hitoshi."

"So, he's going to send agents here to poke around and see what's what. Meanwhile, you'll be separated from us, again," she taps her chin thoughtfully. "Of course, that could be the safest thing for you...being surrounded by Asatru while Lyman is focused on investigating here."

Hitoshi chuckles. "Lymann's men haven't come here yet, and I know why, Evie."

He looks around, spotting guards hidden among the people and the shadows

"The shadow field, my guards, They are all products of Izanami, Japanese goddess of Death and shadows. Look around; the minute Lymanns men manage to get in here, they are as good as dead unless I or Izanami want them alive. As for setting up camp and bringing people in, that's going to be done in secret as long as possible."

He walks over and places a hand on Alex's shoulder. "She is right though Alex, we could easily setup the meeting here, or even do a tight beam broadcast to Officer Drake's people. No need for you to walk out there just yet when we only just go you back. But I won't stop you man. I know you gotta do what you gotta do, you just do it safely."

"Officer Drake, Nice to meet you, sorry for the bit of run around on my part, I was naturally suspicious after everything that's happened to us recently. If Alex goes with you, I'll make you a deal. You bring him back to us safe and sound, and I'll let you and your men there have choice of the finest booze that the Westview can give you, and I don't stock rotgut."

With those words, he nods. "I need to go check on my Mother, and see if I can get an audience with my aunt."

Looking around again he speaks. "Heshi, Take me where I need to go please."

Evie nods but she still doesn't look all that convinced that all will be hunky-dory at the Westview. Lyman is a scion, too. He, too, probably has divine help. Certainly, the regular goons like the Lobos don't stand a chance. But, after having gone to the Underworld and come back...well...she doubts that Lyman will be using the fodder, much, anymore.

"Hai, Hitoshi-sama," Heishi answers, indicating the elevators. "Ryder Misu* is in her office."

It isn't until you enter Karen's office that you become aware of the odd puckering feel of energy against exposed skin, and realize you have passed through a secondary barrier, an added layer of protection. Consequently, the office seems to be heavily shadowed, mundane things like potted plants and chairs casting twisted shadows across the floor, forming an odd mandala-like pattern centering upon Karen.

Frozen, it clearly isn't one of your mother's better moments. She has that slight narrowing of her eyes that telegraphs her disapproval, and a lecturing forefinger is in mid-point. Though they are doubtless long gone, you feel somewhat sorry for whomever is on the other end of the call.

Hitoshi chuckles and pulls out the chair in front of his mother's desk. Sitting down he composes himself and crosses his legs, folding his hands in his lap. After a second he straightens his suit and then refolding his hands in his lap. Finally he nods at Heishi.

"Do it."

"Pardon me for being a Star Wars fan but I've got a bad feeling about this." Lya replies. "Everybody out there knows you're wanted Alex... how do we know you won't just get turned in or in trouble?"

She gestures to the soldier. "You seem like a good guy... but if your superiors demanded that you turn him over would you defy your commander for him? We _literally_ went to hell and back to rescue him."

"As to the shadows... I just don't know. I don't trust Izzy as implicitly as Hitoshi. He thinks she did it for him... but I think she did it for herself and I want to know why." Lya turns to Evie. "Maybe we should check out the guest registry and see just who is in the hotel?"

"Good idea," Evie nods. "I can check that out."

She continues, shaking her head, "I'm with you on this one. I'm not sure that the shadows will hold back Lyman's forces simply because I don't think he's stupid enough to continue to use goons like the Lobos, at this point."

"As much as I like Hrogar, I'm positive that he outed us when we went to rescue Alex. He's a businessman and he doesn't get paid enough to risk his life or the lives of his men to protect us. When we killed Surt, I'm sure that he told Lyman exactly who did it."

"Considering that, Lyman knows that we're more powerful than he first thought. He's not going to waste his time with fodder. Lyman is a scion, too. He must have powerful minions or magic at his disposal."

She sighs and says, "I'll also take a walkabout outside, at some point, and see if there are any spirits lingering. I'm sure quite a few folks have succumbed to exposure. It's possible that not all of them have been claimed for an afterlife, yet. And, the dead are ignored. They see and hear much."

* * *

The lights brighten considerably, and the twisting shadows recede.

"... not how the Westview Grand does business," Karen resumes speaking without missing a beat. "I will ... Hello?"

She touches her ear bud and glances at the phone. "How convenient; disconnect instead of accept a perfectly legitimate criticism of sub-standard performance."

And then she sees you sitting there. "Hitoshi? Where did you come from?"

"As I said, Miss Bach, in my book, we don't just hand over our own people because some bad guy makes demands," Lieutenant Drake says. "And, according to records, Mr. North _is_ one of our own, having served honorably in the United States Army."

"Almost ten years ago, but, yes," Alex says. "You're free to tell your CO that you've seen me. But, all things considered, with a demand to hand me over, I'll want an assurance that I can walk in, and walk out, of any meeting with the chain of command. In the meantime, I'll be here helping restore people and seeing what resources we can share."

Alex turns to Lya and Evie. "No matter how we do this, we're going to have people on edge and asking questions. If we have high-rollers in the penthouse or executive levels, they're not going to sit still for long. Maybe lock off the elevators and ask that they remain in their rooms?"

"And, unless we unfreeze staff, we're going to have to look the part. Borrow uniforms or something."

Hitoshi spreads his hands. "Mother, where I came from doesn't really matter. Why I am here does, so take off the earbud and sit down. I'm asking you to do so as your son, I don't want to have to tell you to do so as your boss, it's time we had a little chat."

She starts to sit down, reflexively moving the mouse of her computer to toggle the screen saver, and frowns as she sees the date and time.

"What is wrong with this thing? June 23rd?"

She holds up a hand in a familiar just-a-moment gesture which would be more tolerable if it wasn't part of her my-house-my-rules mindset.

"Melissa, please call IT and tell them my computer seems to think it's June," she says, not waiting for a reply. "What is it, Hitoshi? Another crisis with your pet rock band? Would you like to set fire to something, or hold a paintball tournament on the Concourse?"

Before you reply, she shakes her head. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Oh no, don't even worry about it. In fact i expect more if it during thus conversation. Oh, your computer is correct, and Melissa won't respond as she's frozen in shadows and time."

He pauses and waits for his mother to explode and call him crazy. In fact, he starts extending the fingers on his right hand counting down the seconds. 1... 2... 3...

"Frozen in time," she says, standing up from her desk. She moves to the door, ignoring Heishi. She looks out into her reception area and sees her assistant standing unmoving before a filing cabinet. She gives a tiny gasp, and moves to examine the young woman more closely.

Then, with calmness her steps do not completely mirror, she returns to her desk.

"Details. Focus on the details, Karen," she murmurs to herself.

After a moment, she looks at you.

"The entire casino?" she says.

Hitoshi nods. "It's all a bit complicated mother, but don't worry, they are all fine and they can all be thawed out on my command. we have a few things to do and discuss though first."

He suddenly facepalms. "Oh yes, Heishi, Would you please unfreeze Mika Hanamura, and James Sokatsu and bring them to the Conference... no, make that my office. Thank you."

He stands and takes his mother by the arm, leading her to his office and having her sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Then he drags in two more chairs so that the others can sit down when they come in. He turns on the security monitors so that the whole casino can be see, including one outside camera showing the snow and situation on the street.

"Now mother, it will take them a few minutes to get here, so while we wait, I must ask... Do you remember Father?"

"Your father? I try not to think of him much," Karen says. "Those were difficult times, for us both, as you well remember. How is this relevant to your casino being 'frozen in time'?"

Hitoshi sighs. "Thus will be hard to believe mother, but..." He pauses and scratches his head before reaching into a drawer on his desk and pulling out a bottle of aged plum wine, and pouring himself and his mother a small glass of it. He stoppers the bottle and slides his mother's glass over to her.

"Gods exist. I am using the plural form. Greek gods, Norse gods, and probably others. Father..."

He takes a sip of the plum wine.

"Well I know he always seemed to think and act like one, but it turns out he really was."

He slams back the rest and sets the glass onto his desk.

"He's Hachiman, god and patron of the samurai, and tactician of the Japanese pantheon, and I... am his son."

"This is where I say, 'Oh, Hitoshi, you've always been special to me,' and you say, 'I love you, Mom,' and then my alarm clock goes off," she frowns.

She tosses off her plum wine like it was a shot of whiskey.

"And now comes the part where you say, 'It's not a dream, Mother,'" she tells you. Fortunately, Karen has never been prone to nervous laughter. "Very well. That doubtless means recent events were connected. I'm not sure what you expect from me, however."

"Well I imagine they're going to unfreeze everybody," Lya chuckles. "I'll suggest we start with the staff next once Hitoshi is done talking to his mom. Of course that could be hours from now."

She offers her hand to Alex to shake. "If this is what you want to do, then so be it Son of Tyr. Take care of yourself, and gods willing, we will meet each other again."

"Don't make us have to save your ass again," Klepto adds as Toxic gives him a nod.

Hitoshi grins. "Mother, it's perfectly fine to freak out. Best you do it now before it all goes sideways. And by sideways, I mean we are unfreezing everyone, and bringing in refugees. I'm going to need you to take charge, inspect out stores and be prepared for the long haul."

He takes his mother's hand and holds it tightly.

"Now, I will tell you that there's sort of a war brewing, and we'll I am involved. A man named Lymann is being all the crap that's happened, and we'll thanks to being my father's son, I have been drug into it. So naturally I've got to kick ass and take names. Mind you, I've been attacked, I'm not gonna lie, and I've also killed. I'm going to keep being in these situations so I want you to stay here and stay out of danger, and before you say anything, I can take care of myself."

"If everything was 'frozen in time,' then we will be well-stocked," Karen tells you. "Two weeks of non-perishables, the basics. One week of perishables. And that's for the full complement of restaurants and lounges, including the dinner buffet and tapas."

"That would be providing meals at our five-star standard. If we're taking in guests as part of an emergency response, we can extend those numbers a bit by thinking 'long haul,' as you put it," she says. "We'll look to the advisability of keeping _everything_ open, depending on the availability of power."

She catches her breath.

"I don't pretend to understand the affairs of gods," she says. "I _do_ know how to run a casino."

Hitoshi grins. "Well then, now we need to figure out capacity of the rooms keeping safety in mind. I'm sure we can find cots and hid-a-beds to put out on the casino floors and such. Course we will have to move all the tables and machines, but hey, you always wanted to overhaul the place. Now's your chance."

He looks up as Heishi brings in James and Mika.

"Cots will have to come from outside. I would suggest keeping as much as possible to event rooms, rather than in the normal hotel spaces. We won't be wasting energy doing daily housekeeping and laundry until we have a better picture of how many people we're taking in," Karen says. "There are a limited number of roll-away units, but almost all of the rooms with Queen or King-sized beds have a fold-out sofa unit."

"Domo, Heishi-san," James says quietly. "An explanation is not necessary, Hitoshi. I've already begun making inquiries as to the status of the Westview Grand, and you are still the CEO. However, I do not know where the rest of the board members are at present. My usefulness will depend greatly on how the outside world stands in regards to communications and internet access."

Mika frowns. "I, also, do not need a detailed explanation. However, I do need to know if this has anything to do with the Yakuza. Though I am estranged from my father, I do not wish to put myself in a position where I would have to choose between my employer and my family, _wakarimasu ka?_"*

*Japanese: Do you understand? The answer would either be, 'Hai, wakarimas,' - yes, I understand - or wakarimasen - I do not understand.

Hitoshi nods at Mika. "Hai, wakarmas." He pauses.

"Ok, james, you are going to help mother. I want the other casinos contacted to help with the refugees, but without my name mentioned. No one must know I'm here yet. I can't explain why, but I can say that no, it does not have anything to do with the yakuza. If we can get all the major casinos pitching in then each of them can take in a little of the population thereby decreasing the burden on each casino. Our first priority should be our employees and their families first. Next will be a group of people that helped us when we came back. We can't help everyone, but I will help those that have helped me. After that we will deal with whatever we can. That's the plan right now."

He folds his hands and stares at Mika and James.

"What I am about to say is going to sound crazy, however, you deserve to hear it from me and not someone else."

He sighs.

"This weather isn't natural. Gods and goddesses exist. There are many if them, and they don't always get along. They fall in love, and have children. One of these children, a man named James Lymann is the son of Loki. He's the cause of all this shit. There are other children, called Scions that are fighting him."

He pauses, waiting for the exclamations of disbelief.

James looks you dead in the eyes. "You have certain values that I've come to appreciate over the years I have worked for you. And I've never known you to lie, Hitoshi. I can't imagine that would change now, of all times. Gods and Goddesses? I have never been a devout practitioner of religion, but my grandparents were, and I don't have to believe to acknowledge that 'all this shit' is a real enough problem."

Mika bows her head respectfully. "I have two questions. First, are you one of these other Scions?"

And then she looks directly at Heishi. "One does not grow up as the daughter of a CEO without hearing some things. That there are corporations which observe _bushido_ as more than just part of our cultural heritage, and that this sometimes involves the veneration of traditional Japanese gods."  
"Is Toshiro Kimura such a man, and which god or goddess does he revere?"

"It is not my place to speak for Kimura-san," Heishi answers. He looks at Hitoshi and nods.

Hitoshi chuckles at James' comment. "No my friend, all I need you to do is stand by my side as you have done over these years."

He turns his attention to Mika. "Yes, My father is Hachiman. As for Kimura-san, I do not know if he is one of us, but I think I know who he follows. Heishi can correct me if I am wrong, but I believe he and Kimura follow Izanami, and that they all were for some reason set to follow me."

He looks at Heishi and smiles.

"And that Folks, ends our meeting. we have a whole casino to unfreeze and setup to receive refugees, and we have employees to find and bring in for safekeeping. When the time comes I shall explain more. Mika, please assist James and Mother until I come find you. Thank you all."

Hitoshi stands and bows and watchs as they all leave.

"Heishi, stay."

He motions for Heishi to sit and becomes extremely serious.

"Heshi, I have not known you for long, but I know of loyalty. I also know that your loyalty is not to me alone. You serve Izanami, and I know she did all this for me. While I do not necessarily have a problem with that, I have to know why. The Gods and Goddesses do not do things lightly. I need to know what she wants from me, or if she has already gotten what she wants, maybe from my father perhaps. If you cannot give me the answers I seek then I must ask an audience of her. I mean no disrespect, but with things being as they are, the only surprises I want to end up dealing with are the ones from that bastard son of Loki."

Mika gives you a formal bow. "Hitoshi, I cannot. I left my family to escape these kinds of machinations. I do not wish to resign, but I cannot do this."

Heishi's face shows no emotion. "I do not have the answers you seek, Hitoshi-sama. If you would speak to the goddess, you must avail yourself of shadow and solitude, and make an offering that she would find pleasing. She may speak to you ... and she may not."

Hitoshi nods at Mika's words. "I understand, please stay, grab a drink."

He then turns back to Heishi.

"Heishi, I am not going to kill anyone if that's what you mean... at least not yet. I'll naturally make an exception for Lymann. That bastard I am going to personally deliver to one of the Gods or Goddesses of death even if I have to die doing so. Still, I would ask your council."

"Death comes in many forms and can be symbolized by many things," Heishi says. "That the goddess walks in the darkness does not mean she wishes to be blind. You are her eyes, as we are her invisible hand. It is your vision that will determine where she stands."

Hitoshi nods. "Thank you Heishi. Please, attend to the rest of the Casino and help out where you can. I have things here for now."

He waits till the man leaves and turns toward Mika.

"What can I do to help you deal with this? I know you don't want to resign, but I get the feeling you have questions, so fire away. If I can answer and help you with this, I will because though our friendship and working relationship has been short, I stand by my employees, and in front of my friends."

"It is a question to which there may not be an answer," Mika says quietly. "I was young, and I was in love. I was ... told ... to end the relationship, or there would be ... consequences.  
"I complied, because I loved him. And came to America for university. I thought I was free of such things. But, now, you have a security detail provided by the Yakuza. It appears you have obligations to Izanami. I cannot walk the same path."

Hitoshi places a hand on Mika's shoulder.

"I am not your father, nor am I Yakuza. I will not ask you to do anything that I am not myself willing to do, nor will I try and rule your life. Such is not my way. As to Izanami, I do not know what she wishes, only she has provided me a gift so that I may keep humanity safe. You find your dream, I will even help you do so should you ask. Until you do, the only thing I ask is your friendship, and from time to time, your opinion on situations."

He stands. "I can't do this alone, Yes, Theres Lya, and Evie, and Alex, but they are like me, burdened with destiny. None of us at times will be able to see past that, and it will take someone with a third person view to get me to see reason. If you are willing to be that person, then I am happy, but should you wish not to be, then I will not hold it against you. You are always welcome in the Westview Grand, and your job is yours until you resign."

"I fear you are stepping onto a dark path and cannot see it as such because of the trappings," Mika says bluntly. "I thank you for your confidence. Although I am not on good terms with my father, once I ascertain what is happening in Japan, I may need to go there to assure myself that my family, including father, are safe."

Hitoshi nods.

"I understand what you say. Unfortunately, I may have to walk through the darkness for a while. Lya, she is unable to do it, she's too nice of a person, and Evie is a police officer so she has to work within the law. Alex likewise has dealings with the law. In this war, I am the only logical choice to make the journey should it be required. It will take good friends to help light my way."

He smiles.

"When the time comes for you to go check on your family, I'll find a way to get you there even if I must take you myself to make sure you arrive. You deserve that much."

"Respectfully, this is something I must do myself," Mika says. "As James noted, much depends on what resources are available in terms of media and internet. I will be in my office and will keep you informed as to any itinerary I book."

Hitoshi nods. "Well just let me know if you'd like to use the company jet. It's the least I can do." He stands.

"I have to go do a few things, just shut the door behind you Mika."

Leaving his office he heads down to the basement to find a small room. Pausing in the hallway, he grabs two small vases of lilies off a table and takes them with him, knowing lilies are used at both western and Japanese Funerals.

It occurs to you that a room in the basement is a temporary solution. It is not a fitting shrine to Izanami, nor is it a place, once suitably decorated, that you would want someone discovering by accident. Perhaps a cabinet could be placed in your office, with a small painting or figurine of the goddess concealed within. A secret place, for a goddess who walks in the shadows and knows many such things.

You set the vases down and extinguish the lights. It is an eerie not-vision that comes to you with little effort. It is not the grainy, high-contrast imaging of a night-vision scope, but a clear perspective. You see all that you would in a lighted room, including shadows, which you find somewhat odd.

You kneel, Kabuki-style, and solemnly clap your hands three times in the traditional gesture used in Tskuo-Gami, drawing the attention of the spirit world upon the here and now.

"What have we here? Flowers for Aunt Izzy?" rasps a familiar voice. "Decorations for the underworld? Do you know why mortals take such great pains to make their dead pretty? It is because they know me, and fear me. Death is not kind, or pretty. You cannot hide the stench of death behind the sweet perfume of flowers!

"But I know why you have come, Hitoshi Ryder. Much changes in the world of man, things to which you seek answers. Answers that do not exist for mortals, and which can be the undoing of gods.

"Ask your questions."

Hitoshi bows his head in greeting. "Greetings to you my Aunt, and Goddess of shadow and death. I do apologize for the small trappings on such short notice. I shall have a better shrine next time. You deserve better."

He turns to face the goddess. "My question is this. I understand that you preserved my casino, and the people in it, and I thank you. I'd like to know if I owe you anything because of it, or if the price for your doing so has already been paid somehow. What do you expect of and from me? In shorter words, whats the situation, and how is my casino such a part of it that you would protect it... I guess?"

He seems unsure quite how to phrase his words.

"I protect my own," Izanami says. "Not all is what it seems. Your casino is material wealth and of use in the material world. I do not traffic in mortal coin, and you have not yet become what I desire."

"I see, through me, you have access to things in the mortal world that you normally do not control. What now then? What is the next step in this war of gods? How do we begin to stop the end of the world? For if the world ends, then no one has influence in anything anymore. Will your hand follow me to the end?"

"My hand is everywhere," she says. "You must become more than Hitoshi Ryder. More than the Son of Hachiman. You must become Darkness."

Hitoshi bows his head. "Thank you Aunt Izanami. I must return to my friends and help with bringing in the refugees. Then... Then I deal with Lymann. I'm going to kill him... Even if I have to die."

"Darkness has many faces," is all she says. "But you cannot _be_ much of anything if you are dead. _Yomi_ is not your destiny. Not yet."

Hitoshi shrugs. "We shall see what time brings."

He bows. "I shall take my leave. Next time however, I'll have a better prepared shrine."

With that he leaves the room and heads off to find the others.

You return to find Lya and Evie speaking with James and your mother. Lya also has Arky on the phone, trying to find a way of bringing his people into the Westview without having to butt heads with either the National Guard or city leaders.

Mika is in her office, speaking quietly in Japanese, but you cannot hear any specifics. There's a look of concern in her eyes, but a stubborn set to her mouth. Apparently, things back home aren't going well.


	22. Conspiracy Theories

(Evie, Lya)

"I'll go," Alex says after a moment. "If this is happening across the country, then I'm likely to be safe. If not, then we know this is Ground Zero, and Loki, Jr. has something nastier up his sleeve than a few feet of snow."

He smiles at Toxic and Klepto.

"Somehow, when the Norse Goddess of Death wants a tete-a-tete with me and tells me I'm trespassing in her domain, I imagine she doesn't want me showing up on her doorstep any time soon," he says.

"Okay, Lieutenant, let's go talk to your people."

The door opens and closes without difficulty. A ribbed tunnel of plastic sheeting extends out of sight across the turnout.

Evie has been looking at the guest register and taking notes. She's got the name Bob Malcolm scribbled down, with the word _Congressman?_ next to it. He's on the High-Roller level of the hotel tower.

Evie comes back to Lya and shows her the name she has found, "I think this is the only politician. At least, it's the only name that jumped out at me. I'm sure there are probably quite a few execs, CEOs and whatnot on the list, too, but..." She shrugs. "This is the one that I would be the most concerned about."

"So," the detective gives Lya a sly grin. "Wanna go check out his room and do some snooping while he's none the wiser? We'll have to be extra careful not to move anything so that the casino staff doesn't get blamed. But, it might be a good opportunity to find out if he's a threat or not." 

"Sounds like a plan to me, Evie," Lya replies. "Lets grab his room key and go take a look around before Hitoshis people get to him."

You 'borrow' a master key from the manager's office and take the elevator to the suite occupied by Congressman Malcolm. And while he is a staunch supporter of law enforcement, he's also rather narrow of vision on social justice issues.

There are two security types standing in the hall, doing their best imitation of statues. Klepto and Toxic reach into the guards' coats, remove their weapons, and eject the magazines.

You realize that you've been in this suite before. It was where the Necromantix were staying. It is, however, someone different. The air is heavy with the smell of alcohol. There is the aftermath of a poker game, side tables still bearing food and drink, the big-screen TV muted but tuned to an all-news network that appears to be covering the end-of-the-world in other cities. Both of the bedrooms off of the main living space appear to be occupied, but the only way to tell which is Malcolm's room is to look.

Lya gives the table of booze a once over and grabs a half empty bottle of Glenlivit whiskey to take a swig as Evie gives her a look with a raised brow. "Oh come on... it was just going to waste!"

She then goes to one of the doors and pauses with her hand on the doorknob. "You realize there's a good chance I could be scarred for life depending on what they were doing in there when they were frozen," Lya chuckles.

Evie shudders. "Gods I didn't even think of that..."

"Well here goes nothing," Lya adds as she takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Before Lya opens the door, she quickly speaks up.

"Just be aware of how things were laid out if you start poking around. I'm sure no one is going to notice if things are a centimeter off here and there, but some people have some serious OCD issues. Like, all the magazines on a table have to be lined up exactly. Or, all the writing on bottles must face forward...that sort of thing," she says. "These guys may not notice anything amiss, judging by the condition of this room but...better to be safe."

Then, she grins, "Good luck, in there!"

Lya pulls her phone out of her pocket and winks. "Rest assured I was planning on taking a lot of pictures. You never know when pictures of a congressman can come in handy."

Even a 25-year Glenlivet can't erase the image of Congressman Malcolm topped by his executive assistant, Miranda Blum. Malcolm isn't in bad shape for a man of his age, but there's a pill bottle on the nightstand that suggests he needs a little help with the ol' flagpole. While Miranda is not quite voluptuous on a par with Christina Hendricks, neither is she lacking in physical charms.

Her taste in men, however ...?

(Evie)

There is a man lying on the bed, in a manner that can only be called insensate. His eyelids are in mid-blink, his pupils dilated. There's a sheen on his lips that suggests he was slipped a mickey finn with a kiss.

It's what's in the adjoining bathroom that catches your attention - a young, lingerie-clad woman putting the finishing touches on dressing her man.

Only in this case, it's a mirror twin of the guy on the bed, dressed in the uniform of an Air Force colonel. His nametag reads ELLISON. In one hand, he is holding a smartphone open to its notebook app, with what appears to be a safe combination on it ...

Without even thinking about it, Evie reaches down to dig in her purse...only to find it's not there. _That's right. I left it in the van...six months ago,_ she thinks in slight irritation. Looking around, she finds the complimentary notepad and pen that almost every hotel in existence provides, tucked in the nightstand by the bed.

She carefully tears a note off the top and replaces the pad. The last thing she wants is to leave an imprint on the pad itself, leaving evidence that someone else has the combination she's about to , she goes to look at the notepad and, using the bathroom wall as a writing surface, she jots down the combination.

"Hey, Lya!" she calls out. "You may want to come in here and look at this. I want you to be able to recognize this guy when you see him out and about."

Lya takes a long gulp from the whiskey. "Aw man... I just knew it," she groans before pocketing the bottle and pulling out her camera. "Smile for the camera, Congressman... it's time for your close-up."

She takes pictures of various angles of the congressman _in flagrante delicto_and makes sure to get his face as well as the identity of his partner before moving on to the other man lying on the bed.

"Well isn't this interesting..." she mutters as she takes more pictures. "I wonder what makes _you_ so important..."

She hears Evie's call and walks into the bathroom. "Holy..." she takes a step back and leans out into the bedroom to glance at the man on the bed before looking back at the half dressed double. "There's a whole lot more than hank-panky going on." she snaps some pictures of the double as well as the young woman dressing him. "Any luck ID-ing this guy?"

Evie shakes her head, "No, I haven't dug much into his identity, yet. But, judging by his uniform and insignia, he's an Air Force colonel. Ellison, it looks like. And, take a look at this...a combination."

She thinks for a second then asks, "Do you know if the casino has security boxes here?"

It's a pity, of course, that the elections are long over. Not that it would matter much - despite politicians prattling about values all the time, the electorate seems to ignore even the most flagrant transgressions, even re-electing the weasels to office.

You've seen enough unfortunates to recognize that the man on the bed was doped with something like rohypnol or another 'date rape' drug. He'll be out for hours, even if unfrozen - long enough for his doppelganger to do what? Steal something? Give orders? Make something disappear off the books? The resemblance is uncanny. If this were a spy movie, the double would be some foreign agent who had received cosmetic surgery and months of training...

"Not sure... but Hitoshi would know," Lya replies. "He should know about this anyway... because I think we may want to put off unfreezing these guys for the moment if we can help it." she reaches over to the bathroom sink and grabs some tissues in her hand to prevent leaving prints before gently prying the phone out of the frozen mans fingers.

"If you've got the numbers written down, I'm going to see if we can learn anything more from this guy's phone."

A cursory examination of the phone shows that it belongs to a Colonel Roger Ellison. There are the usual entries for subordinate officers, his wife, family members, his opposite numbers in other services, and political connections that include Congressman Bob Malcolm.

There are also numbers for several of the Westview's board members.

Other than that, there's a spate of news apps, plus the games Risk, Plague, Inc., and one for Scenario Poker.

*Scenario Poker was available on the Mac, but I don't think the programmer ever made a phone version, and used QuickTime video to give you the illusion that you were playing with real people, including subtle tells.

"While you're at it, scroll up on that Notepad app and see if there's an ID for what this combination is for. I would assume that it's either a deposit box in Ellision or Malcolm's name but, you never know. There could be another player in this," Evie says.

"Even if there's nothing there, we should be able to access the casino's security database to figure out if either of them do have a box."

"And, speaking of other players...let's see if we can figure out who this little angel is," Evie turns to the lingerie-clad woman. The detective begins looking around the room, trying to find the lady's belongings, perhaps a purse.

Just as Lya is being careful, so too is Evie. Before she starts digging into things and touching, she makes sure her hands and covered.

"So, what did you find in the other room?" she asks.

"Something that all the brain bleach in the world will never erase," Lya answers. "Malcolm was caught in the middle of giving someone a ride on the ol' bologna pony."

Evie snerks and laughs softly, before turning to Lya, "You know, ever since I've learned that gods are real and watch what goes on here on Earth, it's made masturbation a lot less fun. Hell, that's too much pressure to perform!"

"Man... what must it be like to be Heimdall anyway? Seeing everyone do stupid silly things on a daily basis..." Lya wonders as she gestures for Evie's pad and paper and starts writing down the names and numbers of the congressman and various Grandview board members as she's sure that's more information Hitoshi should know about.

She looks up suddenly and looks at Evie with slight trepidation. "You...don't have abilities like that do you? If so I'll have to let you know days you don't want to look my way," she chuckles.

The corners of Evie's lips quirk upward in a smile, "I figure it's sort of like watching stupid videos on YouTube. I mean, he's more concerned with making sure that the realms are safe and all but...seriously...how can you ignore some of the stupid stuff that goes on and not apply the Divine Facepalm at least a few times a day?"

At Lya's suggestion that she can see so very much, Evie laughs aloud, "Oh good lord, no...and I hope I never develop sight like that! I can look at a scene and tell what happened there but that's as far as it goes. So far, at least."

As she is looking for the woman's purse, she says, "Oh...we should also see if there is a spare wallet or something lying about. I don't know if Extra Ellison here is magical clone or another person or what. But, if he's a person, he may have left his credentials lying around somewhere."

"Well let's consult the oracle of our generation for answers," Lya smiles as she holds up her phone and plugs in the colonel's name. "Oh great Internet... tell me what you see... especially if I cross-reference you and our congressman!"

Colonel Roger Ellison is a highly-decorated Air Force officer, noted for his service in Desert Storm. He is the commanding officer at Nellis AFB. A number of anti-government/conspiracy pages list him as a front man for everything from Area 51 to the New World Order.

He and Congressman Malcolm appear to support each other - Malcolm backs legislation favoring military expenditures; Ellison praises Congressional leadership. They often appear at the same public events, air shows and annual chili cook-offs.

There are numerous photos, ranging from official portraits to archival news items. One draws your eye only because it's one of the earliest featuring Malcolm and his playmate, a woman named Miranda Blum. But there's another figure that draws your attention, an older man with a familiar half-smirk. The caption identifies him as Armand Roget. Jason Lyman's old alias, suggesting Lyman has his hands deep in military and political pockets ...

The only notation on the Notepad app is, 'Desk" - so perhaps a safe contained by or hidden inside a desk? Ellison's office, perhaps. It's a common enough practice, and reasonably sound - if your phone goes missing, you wipe it, the data goes bye-bye.

A cursory search of a woman's purse lying on the bathroom counter produces her ID, but it's likely to be useless, as the ID is a high-end fake.

But there's also a man's wallet, for one Douglas Maxwell, a name you recognize as one of Roget/Lyman's allies from Thomas Cardinelli's list.

Evie holds up the wallet, showing Lya the driver's license inside, "Hey, this is Douglas Maxwell's wallet. Do you think he's the one who is impersonating Ellison?" She gestures to the doppelganger that stands before them.

The detective runs a hand through her short hair, absently ruffling it into a mess. "So, it looks like Lyman wants to use Ellison to do...what, exactly? Obviously, he's taking advantage of his connection with Malcolm, somehow."

She thinks, "This makes me believe that Lyman doesn't have direct control over either of them. If he did, this switcheroo wouldn't be necessary."

"...or, maybe Lyman does have direct control but he suggested something that didn't set well with Ellison. Something that would harm his own men, maybe? Something that would require a switch. I don't know."

Evie looks to Lya, "If Maxwell is mixed up in this, we definitely need to let Hitoshi know what's going on before he starts unfreezing people." She frowns, "Do you think we should head on up to the offices to try and catch him? I don't know how quickly he wants to move on everything."

"Exactly what I was thinking, Evie... if they're so buddy-buddy then why the need for the double? It would certainly fit if the double is Maxwell though... at least with the Lyman connection anyway." Lya replies with a scratch of her head. "Why not give Hitoshi a call? I want to make sure we've searched through everything we can before I head out of here."

Lya then walks back into the bedroom and winces as she reaches past the frozen congressman to use the tissues to grab the prescription bottle off of the bedside table. "Excuse me for a moment there Bob... just wanted to get your address in case we need to pay you a visit at home."

As expected, the prescription is for an erectile dysfunction medication. An address and phone number are listed, though, depending on how this all sits with Mrs. Malcolm, they may not be his home.

You are more than a little troubled by the puzzle of Colonel Ellison's double, who is a perfect match. Could there be something his double was instructed to do while the real Ellison lay insensate ... and unlikely to admit he'd been suckered by a pretty face?  
Or is there something more sinister afoot? Lyman isn't beyond kidnapping people and locking them up.

"I can't get through to Hitoshi," Evie tells you. "The line just goes dead."

Evie frowns and looks around the room. Even though she's fairly certain that this desk that she needs to find in connection with the combination is somewhere else, it would be pretty stupid to walk out of here without checking.

Thus, she starts looking around, checking the desks to see if any of them lock

"So, I'm thinking that if Lyman is dressing up an Air Force colonel to get into someplace with a combination, he must need to get into someplace only the military could enter. Or, someplace personal to Ellison. Maybe his office or home?" she calls out to Lya as she searches.

"Hmmn... guess we'll have to go looking for him then. With his 'guards' about I'm sure somebody knows where he is." Lya replies. "Let's do one last once over for anything and then we'll seal the room back up and head downstairs. Did the double have anything else on him like an address where he's supposed to go?"

She looks around the scene in frustration and sighs. "Without more information it's just so hard to tell... is Malcolm in on it with Lyman and this is a trap they worked to get the colonel? Or were Malcolm AND the colonel both about to get caught in the trap set by Lyman and that lady in the bathroom? You've got to wonder what defense committees Malcolm might be a part of and what projects this colonel might be privy to... you know?"

"Exactly. And being out of the loop for so long isn't helping things," Evie says. "Maybe we can get some help from Lieutenant Drake. I know that he's been frozen, too, but he may know someone trustworthy within the military that we could speak to."

There is an in-room safe, but it is keypad operated, with a user-selected numeric code. The numbers from the notepad are in the traditional format of a combination lock, likely to be somewhere that only Ellison can reach. A friendship or even a working relationship does not necessarily mean full and complete access - particularly when related to the nation's defense.

And we _are_ talking about the end of the world.

Yet Maxwell looked to be intended as more than a look-alike. He was a perfect copy - and if someone in your work or social sphere bore that close a resemblance, it would not have gone unnoticed. And he was borrowing the real Colonel's uniform. How could they hope to pull this off, unless the substitution was meant to be permanent, and the unconscious Colonel was meant to be eliminated or 'disappeared.'  
It was like something out of a bad spy movie.

"Well, I'm not sure that we can learn much more, just yet. I think we ought to go find one of Hitoshi's guards and see if they know where he is or if they can contact him. I don't know about you, but I don't want these guys moving until we have a better handle on what's going on," Evie says.

"Yeah let's lock this place back up and go fill Hitoshi in," Lya agrees. "Maybe some of his staff might be better at researching the political connections."

Lya then writes down the safe combination and proceeds to alter the note on the phone before wiping it for fingerprints and placing it back into the doubles hand.

Thoughts of the kind of mischief seen in popular fiction involving the suspension of time are set aside. Perhaps Malcolm isn't connected ... and perhaps he was a willing participant in getting to Colonel Ellison. Still, it strikes both of you as a bit early to presume a massive conspiracy with the enemy infiltrating the government and the military.

After wiping away fingerprints and correcting things that may have been disturbed, you leave the suite. The executive floors are only a couple of floors away, separate from the day-to-day offices. It's still strange to see people frozen in mid-stride, though Hitoshi appears to have 'thawed' his mother, Mika Hanamura, and his former financial advisor? Agent?

Mika has the door to her office closed. She is speaking quietly in Japanese, but there is an uncharacteristic frown on her face.

Karen Ryder looks up as Lya enters, her expression less stern than usual, but still somewhat cool.

James smiles. "Lya. And Detective Cartwright, is it? Hitoshi said he would be right back."

One of Hitoshi's newly acquired bodyguards stands to one side.

"Thanks... glad to see you guys are doing all right with all this mess," Lya replies as she shakes James hand and bows slightly to Karen. "Good to see you too, Mrs. Ryder. I imagine Hitoshi filled you in on a lot of things?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Evie shakes hands with those present and then moves to lean against the doorframe. She leaves the talking to Lya since she probably already knows these people through her friendship with Hitoshi.

"He did, and I don't pretend to understand any of it," she says. "In one sense, it's very flattering to have been courted by a god. But it's also disturbing to learn that they don't really have their own houses in order, or that their children are tasked with cleaning up the mess, with little more than a hello and how-do-you-do."  
Karen tucks a non-existant strand of hair back behind her ear, a gesture you always associated with her tolerant-but-impatient tone, frequently lecturing a young Hitoshi about priorities and focus.

"All right is a relative term, I guess," James manages to smile. "Karen has the casino to get back in working order, and I am trying to cobble together a community assistance proposal out of whole cloth. We can help people, but our resources _are_ limited."

"If there's one thing I learned from talking to my Dad Mrs. Ryder, it's that the Gods are just like us with very human problems... just with a bit more power is all," Lya chuckles as she leans against the desk. "When you're father is the Greek god of wine and partying, I imagine the first thing that comes to their mind is 'how do I get somebody else to take care of this for me so I can keep drinking.'" She clasps her hands in her lap and sighs. "Daddy issues aside, we've got other problems to deal with right now that take precedent."

She looks over to James. "When we were outside we encountered a community they called Sanctuary that was being run by a preacher as well as a local artist I met before all this mess started. It seems to me that they've got some resources and organization, but they could really use a stable shelter like the hotel," Lya replies earnestly. "Perhaps if the hotel would be willing to pool their resources with them, it could be a win-win situation for everyone?"

Evie nods, "In fact, they may not even want to move _everyone_ here. I would imagine that they would want to relocate refugees here for safety, but would want to keep Sanctuary running so that they can continue to find those who are lost and need help. So, it would be more like a partnership."

"Of course, that's just conjecture on my part. I can't speak for those in charge of Sanctuary," she adds.

"You know that reminds me," Lya says as she starts patting her pockets, "I might still have Arky's card on me to see if I can give him a call. Couldn't hurt, right? Maybe we can at least organize a meeting where you guys can talk about it."

"While we have space, we cannot simply up-end things," Karen says. "It is not the same as filling the resort to capacity for a convention. We can re-task the ballrooms and the meeting rooms for shelter and organizational space. As I told Hitoshi, we can suspend normal housekeeping and laundry service to conserve water and energy."

"I have yet to ascertain if our perishables are still good. As of the time we were 'frozen,' we would have had two weeks of non-perishables, the basics. One week of perishables. And that would be operating all of the restaurants and lounges. If we are not serving steak-and-lobster dinners to everyone, then we will be able to sustain a relief effort for a longer period of time.

"That means a sensible effort at conservation," she underscores. "We will make every effort to provide a comfortable place to stay, even if it's in a cot on the Concourse."

Arky answers after the first couple of rings.

"A voice from the great beyond!" he says with a cheerful tone that should be bottled and sold. "You got in. Please tell me Hades, or whomever his Japanese equivalent is, didn't redecorate."

"I realize you've only recently been awoken from your stasis Mrs. Ryder, but you need to quickly come to terms that the _world_ has already up-ended things and it's waiting for you to catch up. Those people out there who aren't being subjected to martial law or enslaved by ice giants have already been scavenging what they can to live whether it's bread and water or blankets to keep from dying in the night... _so I think they'll be find without lobster."_ Lya sneers before turning back to her phone.

"Arky, my man... so good to hear your voice!" Lya replies with a relieved sigh as she turns her back to Mrs. Ryder. "Well there was definitely a lot more statuary when we got here... but that's currently being rectified. Just having a discussion with the hotel manager about pooling all our resources to try and get you guys a more stable shelter. What's going on outside?"

"Lya, I'm not worrying about who gets lobster," she says. "I'm agreeing with you. I'm saying that if we are sensible about where we direct our energies, then we can offer help to more people. I'm sorry if that wasn't clear."

Lya covers the phone receiver for a moment. "I'm sorry Mrs R... I'm just... it's not easy going to hell and back for your friend only to find out the rest of the world went to hell while you were gone. I just want to help as many people as I can in this mess. Would you like to talk to Arky and see if you guys can come to an agreement? He's one of the people running Sanctuary so he should be able to tell you what resources they can bring with them so you can coordinate."

"Snow, snow, and, for a change of pace ... snow," Arky says. "We'd love to relocate, but the problem with the Strip is that it's where the 'authorities' have set up. Neither Father Daniel nor I would have any authority or influence over things. Even if you take in other residents, there will be lines and lists and groups and all that stuff that keeps people _separate._"

"For example, and it may seem silly, but if they identify Tawny, she gets branded a runaway, I get labelled something else much less complimentary, and I can be the resident artist in county jail."

Hitoshi walks in, looks between his mother, and Lya, and then over to Evie. "Are they actually getting along?" He asks Evie quietly. He then holds his hand out to Lya.

"As the guy in charge of the Westview Grand, I'd be the one for him to talk to Lya, and we need to get this party started."

Evie nods, replying quietly, "More or less. A little sniping, but nothing terrible."

Lya shrugs and hands her phone to Hitoshi. "Unless the Westview connects to the storm drains, half the party is stuck cross-town."

"Who's this? Hitoshi, right?" Arky asks. "In one sense, it's simple. We pack up our people and get our butts somewhere a bit warmer than a strip mall. Some of the store owners are here with us, so there won't be any hassles over what we've salvaged to make it this far. We're keeping people fed, warm, and dry. And that's a big deal for just about everyone.

"The not-so-simple part is this: I'm a nobody. An adult with a girlfriend who's a runaway and not quite 18. I've been her protector and her mentor, because we both know there are ... disreputable sorts out there. But I can't just march into the Westview. The National Guard is basically camped outside your door. There are the well-meaning people who are 'in charge,' and don't give a shit about the community Father Daniel and I have built up. Just rules and lines and lists and groups and badges and titles ...

"Tawny loses, and I'll probably get charged with statutory rape, and everyone who has found shelter with us will just become another number on a form, someone for the government to take care of. You think they're ready to be told that the gods of legend and myth are getting ready to duke it out? I don't."

Hitoshi glances over at Heishi to catch his attention and glances over at the shadow doors with a questioning look. Heishi gives Hitoshi a questioning look and shakes his head. Apparently, there are limits to the portal ability, either in capacity or duration.

"Look, Arky, is it? Even if I thought the National Guard cared about that particular situation with you and your girlfriend, I have control of my hotel, they don't. You gather your people up and tomorrow night we will bring you through. Give us till then to prep the place and I'll have Lya call you again. You will need to Gather everyone up, and supplies. I am giving shelter and aid to your people of sanctuary. The rest will be on a case by case basis as we will try to get the other casino hotels to join in on the sheltering and giving aid. IF the national guard wants in on it, great, but you are friends of Lya, therefore once you step on these premises you are under my protection."

He finally shuts up and gives Arky a chance to reply.

"Tawny is a runaway, Hitoshi. If the authorities identify her, they'll call her parents. Her parents will point the finger at me. For things like that, they won't care that it's your building," Arky tells you. "That's just one reason my people were living in the storm drains. Rejects, outcasts, runaways. Good people, just not on speaking terms with the rest of society."

"Well that's gonna be a problem for the authority when they have to deal with ninjas, and 4 furies who while I can't speak for them, would probably step up. Look, I'm setting it up so the guard should be a problem. We are going to talk to all the casinos about opening their doors to those that need shelter. I'm sure there's some way enough confusion can be made that you can slip her in here and we can put her and you up in a private room away from prying eyes. We will get you all in here safe and sound even if I have to send my men out to do so, and that's a promise. Ask Lya, I may piss her off from time to time, but I always keep my word. You guys just need to be ready to move under the cover of darkness tomorrow night. Everyone else can come during the day." Hitoshi paces while he talks, and grabs a pad and jostling down instructions to Heishi.

"Also bring the supplies and shop owners you can. We will all have to work together in this. Anyone who can work will be a big help. We are going to get the place setup for your people. One last thing, anyone with special needs should be in the first wave during the day. They will need the most care."

"No offense Lya, but we're here to protect you... not start fights we can't win with the National Guard," Klepto says quietly as she leans against the wall with the other Furies.

"None taken, " Lya whispers back. "There's got to be a better way than forcibly confronting the Guard. Hitoshi gets a bit... intense sometimes."

_"Sometimes..."_ whispers Orithia with a roll of her eyes.

"Maybe we could try talking to the Guard first," Lya theorizes. "I'm sure they're stressed out trying to organize people already... so if Hitoshi offered to take people in, maybe we could do it on the condition that there's no interference by the Guard."

"Maybe use that soldier you talked to earlier as a liaison?" Phoebe adds.

"Yeah... he kind of owes Hitoshi anyway seeing as he freed him and his men... and he also has experienced what can happen when people threaten the place," Lya answers.

"Oh...Hitoshi!" Lya taps Hitoshi on the arm to get his attention. "Ask Arky if they've got a doctor among them who can handle somebody with a drug overdose, would ya? You've got somebody frozen upstairs who is going to need some help."

Even though Evie can only hear half the conversation, she has got a pretty good idea that Arky is not 100% behind this idea.

After Lya gets his attention and asks about the doctor, the detective speaks up, "Hitoshi, if Arky doesn't want to come here, we can't force them. They still have every right to make their own choices, regardless of whether we think those are good or bad."

"Look, maybe Arky and his gang can keep operating as normal but send us any people they find out in the snow? We can still help by taking pressure off of Sanctuary. That way, they don't have to provide for everyone that they find out there. But, anyone who doesn't want to come, for whatever reason, still has a home out there."

"Don't underestimate the National Guard," Arky says. "As I said, they're the people with authority in this scenario."

"One of the reasons we're still out here is that we've got close to two hundred people, Hitoshi. We can't just pack up in a day's time, and the Guard doesn't have any place to put us, even with commandeering resources from other casinos.

"You're going to have to find a way to tell them we're coming in, through their lines, through your front door, without getting them all worked up and making enemies. Unless that's your gig, man, then I'm the last guy you want advice from."

Lya grabs her phone back out of Hitoshi's hand and sticks her tongue out at him before putting it to her ear. "Arky...it's Lya again. We've had some contact with the Guard after Hitoshi freed a few of them from the hotel, so maybe we can try talking to them first and making a deal before Hitoshi tries to take them all on single handed. I'll be sure to keep you updated."

She runs a hand through her hair as she paces. "In the meantime, do you have anybody that needs more immediate help? We could probably sneak in small groups if necessary."

"No, we're good. I may be an idealist, dear cousin, even the Scion of the god who invented medicine," Arky says, "but I can't be everywhere. Not yet, at least. We transferred the few people who were seriously injured to the Guard.

"We just need someone to get the authorities looking past their bureaucracy. I can't do it because they won't listen to a kid off the street who's got a bunch of runaways under his wing.

"I've been known to be very persuasive," Lya chuckles. "Not only that but we've got a police officer, an attorney, and the owner of the hotel on our side, so we'll see what we can do." Lya's eyes widen as she gets an idea. "Even better... if you've got a doctor you can temporarily loan us, we might even have a Colonel."

"A colonel? Do I really want to know?" Arky says. "Never mind. We don't have a doctor in residence, but some of the paramedics make the rounds and bring a doctor if they're needed. Some of the 'doomsday' folk tried holding them, that didn't end well."

"All the juicy details aside, there's a colonel in stasis here at the hotel thanks to the darkness and it looks like he was frozen mid-overdose," Lya replies. "If you guys could get one of those paramedics to come over they've probably been trained to handle overdoses... and then he'd be in debt to you and your people for saving his life, right? I figure he's our best bet at a ringer if we're going to try and convince the National Guard to do anything for us."

"It'll be hit and miss," Arky says. "Like I said, they're not really _our_ people, but some of them make their rounds. _If_ we can convince the Guard to let us bring people into the Westview, then we'll probably have some of the medical folk on tap as well."

"Can't be an overdose, can it? Wouldn't that cost him his job?"

"Well... let's just say I don't think he was planning on taking anything and leave it at that," Lya laughs dryly. "So not only would we be saving his life, but his job too. If you can get a paramedic to agree to help us out, Hitoshi might be able to get _one_ person sneaked through the lines... and then if all goes well the rest of you will be able to walk right in."

Hitoshi mutters "Whatever" and walks off to go deal with the setting up of the Casino.

"Mother, James, Heishi, lets start unthawing the hotel staff for now. After that we can unthaw the patrons. However, leave the good colonel and those in his room frozen until we can get a doctor in to help him."

"Very well," Karen says. "How does this work? Can we go person-by-person, or do we just tell Mr. Heishi, here, 'unfreeze all the staff'? There will have to be some kind of assembly, some kind of briefing."  
"Ryder Misu, we suspended the building all at once. We can undo this in pieces, but it will not be as precise as you are thinking."

"You mean something like we can do a room, but not individuals?" James asks.

"Hai."

"How do you want to do this, Hitoshi?" James asks you.

Hitoshi shrugged. "Let's do this Room by Room and Level by level then. But leave the Good Colonel and everyone in his room Frozen for now. Any idea on who we should unfreeze first Mother? Oh, and where in the fuck is the rest of the board, cause if they left and left all these people behind instead of doing their jobs, I am having James write up the paperwork and doing a hostile takeover from those chickenshit bastards within the next hour."

"If we begin with Staff, we will be working on the Concourse and Casino levels," Karen says. "Make sure our people know we're in disaster mode, just like a fire drill, and it will take care of itself."

"I don't think any of the other board members are on the premises, Hitoshi," says James. "I imagine we might be hearing from Greg Mason, but with you and I absent, and no information on the status of the Westview, he has no quorum and no grounds for taking action."

Hitosi nods in both cases. "Alright then, you heard my mother. Unthaw rooms, Separate the Patrons from the Staff, and inform the Staff that we are in disaster mode and that they should go to their stations inside the building."

He pauses.

"James, I don't think he even knows I was missing, but now, he is. Someone try and contact the Board then. If they don't reply, assume something has happened to them and we will go from there on that issue. Maybe some of them got eaten by trolls or something. In Mason's case, I can only hope that to be true."

"Unlike you, Mason doesn't live here. After the last boardroom drubbing you gave him, he wouldn't be here unless there was another meeting or he wanted to entertain guests on site," James says. "He may be fuming, and he may be scheming, but without a quorum and without backing, he's got nothing. Whereas you show up with resources that can help a great many people. In a snowed-in city, no one is going to give a rat's ass about what Gregory Mason wants."

_****_"Come with me," Karen says to Heishi. "Lya, if you and your friends can lend a hand?"

"Sure," Evie says, nodding. She assumes that she is included in 'and friends' and the invitation to help is not meant for just Lya and the Furies.

Actually, whether or nor Mrs. Ryder meant to include her, Evie is still going to help where she can. She had actually been trying to decide what to do with herself and whatever Hitoshi's mom has in mind will keep her busy.

The detective takes a deep breath that, despite her best efforts to stifle, turns into a yawn.

"Whatever we can do to help Mrs. Ryder," Lya replies. "Though it looks like coffee might be in order."

"I gather that once we start 'unfreezing' people, we'll be able to do something about that," Karen says. "I'm sure we can also make a room available for you to grab some rest if you need it ... Detective? Did I hear that right?"

Evie chuckles, "Well, it has been six months since I last slept!" She smiles, "But, yeah...I was only asleep for a couple of hours before the break-in at my apartment and we've been running nonstop since. Caffeine would be welcome!"

At Karen's questioning tone regarding her job, Evie nods, "Yes, ma'am. I'm a detective with LVPD...at least, I was. At this point, they may have declared me dead and retired my shield."

"All right. Once we get the first couple of areas taken care of, and we're sure no one is going to 'freak out,'" Karen says. "Then I'll have enough staff that the rest of you can take a break, get some food and rest."

She pauses and gives Hitoshi a serious look.

"That includes you, Hitoshi."

At Karen's suggestion, areas are 'unfrozen' - providing a conscious desk staff and a handful of disoriented bellhops.

"Frozen in time?" one asks. "Like _Doctor Who_ timey-wimey stuff? That's totally cool!"

Most of the staff take their tone from Karen, hiding their thoughts behind a veneer of professionalism that will carry them through the next day or so. It seems a bit selfish to focus on 'staff,' but as the casino's disaster plan is implemented, the wisdom of doing so becomes clear. The ballrooms are prepped to receive the rest of the casino's guests, and the simple courtesy of food and drink makes it all seem much more normal.

"Please assure all of our guests that they will be billed only for the length of their original reservation, and that 'check out times' are not being enforced at present," Karen reminds her desk staff. "Don't try to explain the situation to individual guests. Direct them to the ballrooms on the basis of their last name, and we'll take it from there."

It is clear that Karen Ryder is in her element and that Fimbulwinter or whatever apocalypse is rolling up to the door will not be fought entirely by the gods or by Scions, but through the assistance of mortals like Karen and the staff of the Westview Grand.

Lya makes her way through the halls bustling with awakened staff getting back to their routine until she finds Hitoshi issuing directions in one of the ballrooms.

"Hey Hitoshi... I was wondering...I know those portals of yours aren't terribly suited for large groups of people...but could you get maybe 2 people through? I'm still trying to negotiate with Arky to at least get a paramedic over here to help us handle the Colonel... because if we can get him on _our_side, maybe he can negotiate with the National Guard out there to help us get any of Arky's people who wants to come to the hotel."

She runs a hand through her hair as she chews her lip. "If that isn't an option I'm going to just have to go out there myself to get them... and I don't want to see the look on Klepto's face when I tell her that, you know?"

Hitoshi looks at Heishi. "You told me we couldn't do that again, is that right?"

"There is a cost, Hitoshi-sama. The power must come from somewhere, and you are not yet ready," Heishi says, a touch ominously. "It is possible to open a path, but a large number of people would take more energy than is available. To open a path for a small group will also cost energy that you may not wish to expend until you ... understand." 

Hitoshi looks around. "Mother and the Staff have all this covered. Neither the Board nor I am here to micro manage the Casino. We are going to have the Physically go get Arky and this doctor. However, as late as it is getting, a Vehicle might be a good idea first. We can't be driving all over the place when nightfall hits. It's going to drop big time."

He runs a hand through his hair. "In other words, I'm going to let Mother do what she does best, and I am going to do what I do best."

He turns around. "Hey Mom, the Garage of the Casino faces away from the Convention center so the Guard isn't going to be in our way. However, we need a Ride that's quick and Maneuverable in the snow."

"If we weren't in the middle of a blizzard, I'd be worried," Karen says. "There's a Humvee in the garage. A guest had wanted something special for a party, so it has been ... tricked out ... a bit. The Day Manager at the desk will have the keys."

You retrieve the keys without incident, and are directed to a space normally reserved for high-rollers. Feeling confident that you and Heishi are more than a match for any non-environmental hazard in your path, you leave the rest of your 'security' detail behind to assist with the 'thawing out' process.

You take the elevator to the key-access level, and have a moment of trepidation, as the level is dark.  
"Something I should know about, Heishi?" you ask.

"Iie, Hitoshi-sama," he answers. He draws his sidearm and slips out into the blackness beyond, keeping the doors from closing with the edge of his foot. "I sense nothing."  
You step forward, and sensors register your presence where they failed to recognize your bodyguard. The beam of an argon laser scans across the floor, creating a path of cerulean blue across the garage floor. A path that ends at something that is vaguely Humvee shaped ... but has been modified with blue underbody lights and trim reminiscent of light vehicles from a Tron remake ...

Hitoshi ' s left eye twitches for a second. "Note to self, find the dumbass that asked for the underbody lights, and smack them... hard."

He turns. "Well Lya, it's no tumbler, but if we unplug the under carriage lights, it should be fine... unless you want the lights."

The underbody lights may be horrendously tacky, but it's an excellent job for what was probably a last-minute request from a top-tier guest. You recognize the handiwork of another custom garage in town, and are thankful it wasn't your old shop.

Still, the vehicle is nicely tuned, turning over with barely a moment's hesitation, even though the cold is noticeable here in the garage. The rumble tells you there's plenty of power under the hood, likely the later model V8 engine, even if that means astoundingly low fuel economy...

Hitoshi nods and rolls down the window to talk to Lya and Evie.

"Okay, this one works. I'm going to go check the other Casino's to see if I can get them on board with the whole offer shelter to Refugees deal. The keybox is over there in the office will have more key's to the other Hummers should you two wish to take a Vehicle. Just be careful. Alex hasn't reported back in yet, and I don't want anything to happen to you two."

"Don't we need one of your people to open the ... whatever it is?" asks Evie.

"Not to leave," Heishi says. "My associates will be mindful of your return."

"Okay," says Evie, even if the whole magical-barrier thing is still on the far end of weird-stuff-that-comes-with-being-a-Scion.

First things first. You give some wires under the dash a quick yank, and the gaudy underbody lights go dark. You pull out onto the Strip, which the Guard has somehow managed to keep partially clear of snow, possibly by running an MRAV back-and-forth. The Guard presence, however, appear to be fixed at the far ends, with a roving patrol presently several blocks away.

"If you do not have a specific destination in mind, there is something I would like to show you," Heishi says.

"All right then," Lya chuckles to Evie as she goes to look through the key box. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's see if we can find something more subtle."

"Furious Fury, six o'clock," Evie whispers as Klepto comes storming out of the elevator.

"Ah crap..." Lya mutters as she hangs her head.

"What do you think you're doing without us? Do you think for one minute that we'd let you go alone out there?" Klepto growls as she pokes Lya in the shoulder.

"I'm not going alone, Klepto... Evie is coming with me, so we'll be fine, I swear!" Lya pleads as she turns to the Fury with her hands outstretched. "We're needing to keep this on the down-low. I'm sure those guards out there are on the lookout for us as a group, so I figured if it was just Evie and me bringing back Arky and hopefully a paramedic, it wouldn't look as suspicious, you know?"

"Your Dad will have my hide if I let something happen to you out there..." Klepto replies as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"Lya's my friend too... and I will do whatever I can to keep everyone safe, Klepto," Evie replies with a reassuring smile. "I may not be an Amazon, but I've had my share of experience protecting people."

"Besides," Lya adds with a wink. "If I need you guys, you're only a call away...right?"

"Right..." Klepto huffs. "I guess we can help keep people in line here until you need us. You'd better bundle up at least and take a kit with you in case something happens."

"Yes mom," Lya chuckles as Klepto rolls her eyes and heads back to the elevator.

"We'll need to make sure we're prepared for this trek before we head out," Evie says. "I'll bet I can scavenge an emergency kit and a map from these vehicles."

"Great idea," Lya replies. "I'll grab us some warmer gear upstairs since I need to call Arky and make sure we coordinate before we head out."

"And, grab some food and water, too!" Evie calls out after Lya. "I'm hoping that nothing happens that strands us out there for any length of time, but...just in case..."

"Okay!" Lya calls back, already on her way back up to gather gear and make that call.

Evie turns her attention to the cars and starts going through them, popping open glove compartments and trunks as she looks for maps and emergency kits. She also keeps her eyes open for flares, flashlights, extra tires, a jack, jumper cables, tool kits...whatever she can think of that might be needed on the road.

The Westview's stable of vehicles includes the usual array of Lincoln Town Cars, an airport shuttle, a Cooper Mini, and a stretch Humvee. All either bear the Westview Grand logo, or are in basic black ...  
... except for the all-white LTC that must be reserved for weddings.

All of the cars are properly equipped with maps, GPS navigation systems, and a basic emergency kit.

Finding warm clothing isn't as difficult as one would think, with prominent ski resorts within a day's drive. Still, the selection tends towards touristy jackets trimmed with fake caribou fur and bearing splashy _Ski Nevada! _logos.

Lya calls Arky.

"Hey, Lya. Got a doc - finishing his residency at University, really - and a couple of paramedics who are willing to drop by, they'll probably be here in an hour or so, and we've got the usual list of house calls, then they say they can go with you," he says.

"Excellent," Lya replies. "Evie and I are getting a vehicle and supplies together so we can start heading your way. You guys need anything there that we can provide since we're making the trip?"

Evie gathers all of the supplies up into a pile as she waits for Lya to return. Her eyes flit from car to car but, honestly, she has no idea which one would be the best choice for snow travel. She has spent her entire life living in a desert. She knows how to handle a car on sand or loose gravel but...snow? Not so much.

"I hope Lya has some experience with this," she mutters to herself. Perhaps the singer has lived in colder climes and has a suggestion.

Lya returns shortly thereafter. Phoebe is helping her with a modest pile of supplies, an assortment of things to barter with Arky. Even though it's possible that the Westview could replace Sanctuary in some ways, relocating 200+ people won't be an easy task.

"Okay, it's only a couple of miles from here," Lya notes, punching an address into the dashboard's GPS. It beeps, and cheerfully advises you to turn left in 50 feet.

Leaving the garage is ... weird, if only because the stark winter landscape leaches away most of the Strip's color and energy. In the distance, you can see what appear to be roadblocks or security checkpoints at either end of the Strip, and a pair of tailights hints at a roving patrol.

The GPS flashes red, and a message bearing the Seal of the State of Nevada pops up on the screen.

_A state of emergency has been declared. Residents of Las Vegas are asked to report to the Las Vegas Convention Center. Please bring clothes for several days, along with any blankets and winter wear you may have available. If you are without a vehicle, please call 1-800-CLV-HELP to notify us of your location, remain indoors and shelter in place ..._

The message repeats. Automated navigation is unavailable.

"Well so much for that..," Lya says as she turns off the GPS. "Not like we were planning on using the main roads anyway."

She turns down a side road and smiles at Evie to reassure her. "I may not have a lot of experience driving in snow, but I've certainly driven one of these babies before and these things are like tanks. Besides that it's white, doesn't have the hotel label on the side, and it's roomy enough for anyone we need to bring back with us."

She coughs and mutters "Might not have been mine... but we'll leave that story for another day."

"Relieving you," said one guardsman. "Anything happening?"  
"It's snowing," came the sarcastic reply.

"That's a big help."

"I'm cold."

"Count your blessings. You're not over babysitting the creepy undead Nazis," the first guardsman pointed out.

"True, that. But Thor sure wants to be there."

"Thorsson's one of those Satroo fellows. He thinks Odin is going to ride in on a warhorse," frowned the first man.

"Hey, come on, he's not a bad guy. Knows his beer, and his 'church' has some good microbrews, too. All I really give a shit about is whether he's got our backs, and he does."

"True. Anyway, see you in four."

Neither man seemed to notice the white LTC driving slowly down the Strip, then making a turn to cut between two other properties ...

Evie laughs at Lya's muttered remark, shaking her head, "No worries. I'm familiar with that scenario. My brother Ricky _might_ have taken a few joyrides in the past and I _might_ have ridden with him a couple of times...but if you ever meet my parents, you can never tell my mom. Holy shit. She'd blow a gasket, even though that was years ago."

The detective peers through the windows, trying to keep an eye out for any trouble along the road. However, the snow makes it difficult to see. As she squints at the whiteness, she asks, "Have you lived here all your life?"

"Yup, mom was a waitress at the Hard Rock among other things and never talked about who my dad might be. Heck... I doubt she knew herself. So as soon as I got old enough I took off to live on my own."

She stops at an intersection and peers down the streets looking for patrols before slowly moving on.

"Ended up holing up with a gang called the Ghost Dogs for a while... but things went...bad... and that's where I met Hitoshi. Ended up living with him and his mom for a while until I met Dad and the Furies and got focused with my music. How about yourself?"

"My life was pretty darned normal up until a few months ago," she chuckles. "I'm a native, too. My mom works as a secretary at one of the local law firms and my dad is a grease monkey. They still live in the same, little ranch house I grew up in on the outskirts of Vegas."

"My middle brother, Ricky, flirted with the gangs when he was young, but managed to avoid getting sucked into that lifestyle. He was a wild one, though. Drinking, drag racing, vandalism...but, he finally grew out of his juvenile delinquency. He's a bartender over at The Basement."

Lya is familiar with The Basement. It's a bar located in, appropriately, the basement of a pool hall. The clientele tends to be a fairly rough and tumble crowd, and the place is well protected with bouncers at the ready.

"My youngest brother (and a fan of yours!), is Ian. He's working on his PhD in anthropology. I think his ultimate plan is to become a college professor. Last time I talked to him, he was headed to India to meet with some folks there and do research. I don't know if he made it back before all this hit," she frowns, worried about her serious, thoughtful sibling.

She shrugs and smiles, "My family is your average family. We've had our ups and downs, but we stick together. Even though we may drive each other batshit insane, we stick it out."

"So, what about your music? What inspired you to choose this genre?" she asks.

"I wonder what your brother would've made of that sarcophagus we found," Lya chuckles as she makes her way down another street. "I'm sure he could write a thesis based on everything going on these days."

"As to the music... I think living on the streets exposed me to the Punk scene," she continues thoughtfully. "There are so many people who slip through the cracks only to be forgotten and they've got a lot of energy and anger and frustration... and I think punk music helps to create a sense of unity for those people." she chuckles to herself and half grins. "That and it's fun to play."

"That, and it's fun to listen to!" Evie grins. "Going to one of your shows is one of my favorite memories."

She leans forward and peers at a shadow in a building, trying to determine what it is through the blur of snowflakes.

Glancing at Lya, she smiles and continues, "Ian had been having a hell of a time with a research paper he was writing. Apparently, there was a lot of information that wasn't all clicking together and he was getting frustrated with it."

"I had been given a cold case involving a kid and..." Evie sighs, her lips pressed together. "I hate those cases. Yeah, cold cases are old but, you still learn what happened and...they're never pretty. And knowing that stuff happens to little ones who can't defend themselves..."

"Anyway," she shakes it off, "Ian comes knocking on my door and drags me out at 1AM to see you guys. 'We need to relax!' he said. When he gets like that, there's no arguing with him. He's a Cartwright and it means he has a stubborn streak a mile wide."

"I remember getting there and you guys were already on the stage," she chuckles. "You has these fantastic banners up with these wild, Celtic knot designs as part of the set. You were up there, belting out a tune and it was hard. I could feel it pulsing in my chest. You know? How the beat gets in there and it's like...like your blood? Like your heart?"

"Ian went and bought us beers and, for that night, we didn't think about work. The two of us just danced and sang along (badly) and enjoyed ourselves," Evie laughs. "I don't even remember the taxi ride home. But, I do remember waking up and feeling like crap the next day. I still needed to wade through a ton of old police reports."

Lya is forced to slam on the brakes by something looming out of the snow. The LTC slews to one side, a muffled _crump_ as it hits one of the snowdrifts over a row of buried cars.

"What the ...?" she exclaims.

There's certainly something out there, but it is lost in the falling snow. It could be a Vegas resident, a solo scavenger; or it could be something else. Arky had mentioned some folks had their own notions of doomsday and how to weather it ...

Lya stops the car and partially opens the driver side door so she can use it as cover if need be while she stands and surreptitiously slips her Beretta out of her belt behind her back.

"Hello? Anybody out there?" She calls out.

Hitoshi nods at Heishi. "Sure, if you think it's important, then it probably is."

He looks back in the rear view mirror towards the hotel. "Yea, they should be okay. Lya's smart, and Evie's the daughter of Hiemdall. Plus Lya has the Furies." He mutters.

"So Heishi, how much trouble are we expecting when we get to where you are taking me?"

"Trouble? I would tell you if there were such," Heishi says. "We are going to visit Kimura-san. It is a very nice home. It reminds me of my childhood, long ago."

He recites an address, which you enter into the Hummer's GPS. The unit begins to calculate its route, then a message bearing the Seal of the State of Nevada pops up on the screen.

_A state of emergency has been declared. Residents of Las Vegas are asked to report to the Las Vegas Convention Center. Please bring clothes for several days, along with any blankets and winter wear you may have available. If you are without a vehicle, please call 1-800-CLV-HELP to notify us of your location, remain indoors and shelter in place ..._

The message repeats.

"I do not understand. The spirit of this device does not want to cooperate?" Heishi asks. "That is unfortunate."

For a moment, you are actually worried that your bodyguard is going to shoot the GPS screen.

"I will give you directions," he says, and does so.

You find yourself at a home that is on the pricier side of town, where houses are sprawling, ranch-style affairs with a generous amount of space around them. The nods to Japanese sensibilities are evident even under the piled snow.

Heishi rings the doorbell, and someone inquires who it is in Japanese. The door is opened immediately thereafter.

"Ryder-sama," the gentleman says. You remember him: Masaru Matsudaira, Kimura's second. "We are honored."

While the home is warm, the light seems to be entirely provided by candles shielded by rice-paper frames. As a result, the shadows here seem more pronounced, and flicker about as the candle flames dance. 

"He sleeps," Matsudaira says, though you are not sure if he is speaking to you or Heishi.

Hitoshi bows to the man.

"Greetings Matsudaira-san, Heishi said there was something to show me, and he directed me here. If Heishi says it's important then it must be. How are you and Kimura-san faring with the cold and the weather?"

He keeps his voice soft, not wanting to wake whoever is sleeping.

There's no answer except a sharp whistle. You realize there are three or four people, clad for the weather, loading up a makeshift sled.

"Shit's ours. Back off," someone hisses, as you hear the _ch-chak_ of a shotgun being readied.

Evie looks towards Lya, questioning. She watches her hand clamp around the gun behind her back realizes that this might not have been the best idea ever.

_Oh, well. That's the risk you take,_ she thinks grimly. Had there been someone injured or in need of help, Evie would've never forgiven herself for not checking.

She pulls out her own gun, a standard police issue glock, and quietly rolls down her window as she searches for targets. If anyone out there decides to either shoot at her or she has to shoot someone else, she'd rather not take out the glass and have to drive in a cold, cold draft.

_If I live. If I'm dead, I don't think the cold will bother me,_ she thinks. _Maybe. Dunno. Have to ask Thomas about that, if he's still hanging around._

The falling snow doesn't seem to impede your vision much. You can easily make out the numbers and locations of the people warning you to back off.

Three are huddled near the makeshift sled, while one person is moving off to Lya's left ...

_****_Evie blinks in surprise as she realizes that she can _see._ Just a few moments ago, the air had been thick with snow, severely limiting how far she could see. But, now, when the need arises...it's as if the air is clear and bright. However, she doesn't let that phase her for long. She can be as surprised as the wants to, later. Right now, there is a threat.

"Lya," Evie whispers loudly. She hopes that the shifting snow masks her voice enough so that the others can't hear her. "Three near the sled, one to moving to your left."

Realizing that Lya will only be able to reliably see the one closest to herself, Evie takes a bead on the farthest targets.

She also takes note of any weapons they carry and peers at the sled, trying to make out what may be upon it. Are these looters or are these desperate people who are trying to help one of their own? Do they appear as if they can be persuaded not to attack? Because, honestly, Evie would rather not have to shoot anyone. These are strange times and people who may not normally do such things but...well...hardship will make people selfish and cruel.

"We're not trying to get in anybody's way my friend... we're just looking to get to Sanctuary," Lya calls out as she quietly slips the safety off. "So how about none of us do anything we might regret and we can all move on to somewhere warmer, huh? Don't you want to be warm and safe instead of cold and dying because you picked a fight with people with guns who are trained to use them? Just take what you've got and go."

She catches Evie's whisper and nods almost imperceptibly.

"It's the End Times, girl," comes the answer. The sneer is evident in the speaker's voice. "There's no 'warm and safe.' You go run off to your friends in _Sanctuary._ Don't come begging on our turf."

You're willing to take the answer at face value, but Evie's skeptical look is enough to tell you the speaker is talking to keep you locked down while his cohort comes up behind you.

"Back off...just back off," Evie mumbles softly. "I don't want to kill you assholes but..." her finger tightens ever so slightly on her trigger, ready to put a bullet in one of them.

She glances at Lya, hoping that the Scion of Dionysus can do something to diffuse this situation before it becomes a shootout. As it stands, Evie is ready to defend her friend, poised to either shoot or pull Lya back into the cover of the car.

Lya whips the gun out from behind her back and shoots the ground at the feet of the person Evie warned her of before aiming at his head.

"I suggest you call off your goon or your End Times are going to happen right now... got it?"

Seeing as Evie's covering the speaker, Lya keeps her gun trained on the guy trying to ambush her and slowly reaches down to grab her staff out of the car.

"Επιτρέψτε μου να είμαι το μάτι του κυκλώνα σε μια θάλασσα του χάους!" she whispers as the runes briefly glow before fading again.

~~~~

(Hitoshi)

"He does not know," Heishi says. "He was between the worlds."

Matsudaira bows respectfully.

"This way, Ryder-sama," he says.

There are others in the home, all clad in unadorned Japanese peasant garb from the Shogunate era, all quietly tending to tasks such as food preparation, cleaning, and - it appears - praying. The hallway leading to Kimura's office is lined by figures kneeling in supplication.

All of whom lower their heads to the floor as you pass.

Matsudaira opens the door to the office, which is also lit by flickering lamps. Simple shadows dance and beckon, while others seem to writhe and form dark-omened kanji that dissolve when you try to discern them. And all of the shadows seem to stretch towards a decorative screen at one end of the room.

"Kimura-san is in the Shrine. He may wake when you approach," Matsudaira tells you.

Heishi moves a panel of the screen aside and takes up post. For a moment, he is not a business-suit clad executive bodyguard, but an_ashigaru,_ a foot soldier from a time long since passed.

Beyond the screen, the space is lit by a single candle. A spare form is kneeling before a statuette whose shadowy outline is quite familiar to you: Izanami.

And you realize the kneeling figure is Toshiro Kimura.

Or, what's left of him.

This is not the man you met at the signing, the Pacific Rim CEO who appeared to be in his early 50's, but a much older man, his hair completely white, his face deeply lined with wrinkles. His eyes are half-closed, with a rheumy edge to them. His breathing is labored.

Before him is a bowl that is filled with a dark liquid. You know, without closer examination, that it is blood. His blood.

A barely audible rasps reaches your ears as Kimura acknowledges your presence by speaking your name.

Hitoshi takes a hesitant step towards Kimura, then looks over at Matsudaira.

"Someone explain this please... someone other than Kimura-san," he says softly

(Lya, Evie)

Whirling snow and waves of force resolve into discrete patterns in Lya's mind. Order and chaos are one and the same, a nuance of creation, and the feeling of cresting a wave that Lya gets from being on stage.

But none of this is apparent to the quartet of scavengers. They don't seem to be cowed by your confident air and ready weapons.

"Bitches got teeth," laughs one. "Let's bring _her_ back to Compton. He likes 'em with some fight."

Lya realizes with some irony that Compton is - or was - one of the Ghost Dogs ...

Evie grits her teeth and waits. She has no idea exactly what it is that Lya is doing since she doesn't speak Greek, but she is loath to start shooting and possibly disrupt whatever it is.

Instead, she bides her time, taking careful aim at her target. All she has to do is pull the trigger. The man probably has no idea that she can even see him...

"If you know Compton, then tell him that Sonny Black _still_ thinks he's a pathetic piece of shit," Lya warns. "The only bitch with teeth he ever even got near was _me_ when I ripped out his nose ring with them. Sonny thought it was so funny that he kicked Compton back to Cali and let me join the Ghost Dogs." She raises her other hand and the sleeve slips down to reveal the image of a flaming dog skull on the inside of her wrist.

She then pulls back the hammer of her gun so everyone can hear it. "So go on home and ask Compton how he got his scar before I give you some of your own."

There's a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, fuck," someone breathes.

"No way," someone else says, tagging on a giggle-snort.

Evie is able to see the apparent leader wave off the man who was trying to outflank them. The threat of some towering brute who liked playing rough evaporated.

"Shut your holes, both of you," comes the warning.

"Jeez. He said he lost it in a bar fight in Lodi."

"Shut up!"

There's one more restrained snort of humor.

"Get in your car. We ain't got nothin' for you. Go be someone else's problem."

The quartet fades back into the snow. The last thing you hear is a ... 'with her teeth?' and another snarled 'shut up!'

Lya slowly lets out the breath she was holding as the last of the men fades back into the snow. "Now might be a good time to leave," Lya says quietly to Evie as she clicks the safety back on her gun and puts it back in her waistband. She takes one last glance around before ducking back into the car and quickly locking the door before starting the car up again.

"Come on, baby... don't fail us now."

"No kidding!" Evie scoots back over to her side of the car, having moved a bit to be within reaching distance of Lya. However, she does not put away her gun or roll up her window, yet. She's still scanning the streets to make sure that the gang members don't change their minds and decide to try something stupid as they pull away.

"Good job, out there," she says. "I'm glad that didn't deteriorate into bloodshed."

"Yeah... much as I wanted to shoot those bastards, I figured you wouldn't want that added weight on your conscience, Evie." Lya replies as she shifts the car into gear and pulls away through the snow. "We've got enough crap to worry about as it is."

The car starts without incident, and you resume the journey to Sanctuary. Still, the thought of society reduced to gangs arguing over turf and scavenged goods isn't entirely reassuring. You hope Alex is finding better news amid a greater concentration of people and social systems directed towards orderliness.

Past the Strip, the horizon is dominated by the castle. Fortress. Whatever. Smooth walls of classic design, watch fires burning bright upon the towers to either side of the gate.

But it isn't the Keep alone that draws Evie's attention. It is the rippling sky beyond, unfamiliar stars and a river of milky light unlike anything she's ever seen under the desert sky ...

And part of her knows that it is home.

Asgard.

"Earth to Evie..." Lya waves a hand in front of Evie as she stares out the window. "You ok?"

Evie blinks, startled slightly by Lya's hand waving in front of her. She hadn't even realized that she had spaced out.

"Uhh..yeah, I'm fine," she smiles reassuringly at Lya. "Just distracted by that." Evie gestures out the window, indicating the sky.

With a sigh, she turns her attention away from Asgard and back to what is happening here, in Las Vegas. One day, she will walk there. Maybe. But, for now, there is too much to be done on Earth.

"But, yeah...I do appreciate you handling that back there," she leans back in her seat with a sigh. After a moment, she pops open the glove compartment and starts rummaging, looking for some Chapstick.

"History with the gangs aside, I don't think it would've been good for you to kill them, either. You're a good soul, Lya."

Lya glances out the window before focusing back on the roads. "It is weird seeing the snow fall in Las Vegas, isn't it?"

She sighs. "I want to help people if I can... but they certainly don't make it easy sometimes. I may not be like Hitoshi... but when someone decides to threaten the people I care about there's nothing I won't do to protect them."

"The snow...of course," Evie says softly, realizing that Lya can't see what she does. It's useful and wonderful, but will take some getting used to, just as seeing and talking to ghosts did.

_More of me seeing things others can't. Heh! Any other day of the week, and I would've been labeled certifiable..._ she thinks with a wry grin.

"Aha!" Evie gives a small exclamation of triumph as she pulls out a stick of cherry Chapstick. She pops the top off and runs it across her lips, soothing the dried skin there. She holds it out to Lya, offering her some.

"So, how are we going to handle things once we wake up the room with the colonel?I'd like to lock the bedroom doors so that the senator and the double can be handled separately rather than having to deal with everyone at once," she ponders. "I'm betting that the doors don't lock from the outside, though."

You remember the pickets and gates at the entrance to Sanctuary, and the young woman posted out front waves you past the first gate into a space that is partially shielded from the cold by hanging tarps.  
She motions for you to roll down the window.

"Hi. Welcome to Sanctuary," she says. "Can we help you?"

Lya takes the Chapstick with a nod of gratitude and applies a layer with a smack of her lips. "Well I figure we're going to have to remove the Colonel from the room first so we can wake him up separate from the others," Lya replies as she hands the tube back to Evie.

"If we're lucky, the medical people we pick up will be able to save his life so we can get his side of the story. Not only that... but maybe he can help us talk to the National Guard so we can take in more refugees without having to deal with the red tape. The Congressman might end up being a dupe... but that doppelganger and those girls... I wouldn't trust them being unfrozen unless they were bound, gagged, blindfolded and trussed up like pigs."

"Hey there," Lya calls out as she rolls down the window with a smile. "Lya Bach and Evie Cartwright here to see Arky. We've brought some goods to barter in the hopes of getting a doctor's house call over at the Grandview."

"Oh! We appreciate the gesture," she says. "Just stay on the main aisle until you reach the garage. Someone there will take you to see Arky."

Hand signals are passed, and you are fairly certain that you were being watched by less-friendly faces until you were identified.

You drive back out from under the tarped-over area, and proceed through what was once the strip mall's parking lot. A small space has been marked off for children's play, sporting a couple of snow forts and piles of snowballs. And then an easy turn takes you into the garage, with the roll-down doors closed swiftly behind you.

Arky's cheerful baritone comes from around the corner, singing a couplet from _Baby, It's Cold Outside!_  
"Lya. And Detective Evie," he smiles. "You sounded all serious and grim on the phone. This is Doctor Lee, from General."

A slim Asian woman nods a quick greeting. It's difficult to tell her age. "Russell tells me it's important."

"It's good to see you again, Arky," Evie smiles.

Then, she turns her attention to Dr. Lee, "Ma'am, we have a gentleman back at the Westview who may be suffering an overdose on...something. From the circumstances we found him in, it looks like this wasn't of his own doing. And, those responsible probably don't care if he survives. We'd greatly appreciate it if you could come take a look at him."

"Afraid things got a bit weird at the hotel," Lya replies as she shakes Arky's hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Lee," she adds as she bows respectively. "My name is Lya Bach and this is my good friend Detective Evie Cartwright."

She leans against the hood of the car and takes out her flask to offer. "Not just a gentleman... but a Colonel and potentially a key player in our current predicament," Lya adds. "If we can save his life, he might be our best opportunity to figure out what's going on as well as our way to help anyone who wants shelter at the hotel to be able to do it without military entanglements."

She takes a drink from her flask. "Hitoshi has managed to keep him stable for now... but if he's to be any help to anybody he's going to need immediate medical attention. Wasn't sure what we should bring in trade... so we just grabbed a bunch of supplies from the hotel for you guys to go through." She thumbs over her shoulder to indicate the large trunk of the car.

"Russell, that's your decision," Lee says. "Right now, I don't care about insurance, billing, or payment in trade."

She motions to a paramedic standing off to one side. "TJ, are we stocked for an overdose?"

"Stabilize and transport only, Doc."

"If we can transport him at all," she notes. "Detective, are we talking party drugs, heroin, or something else?"

Evie thinks for a moment, then replies, "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say date rape drugs. It was slipped to him in secret."

"Dudes pupils were all whacked," Lya adds as she whips out her phone to show Dr. Lee the picture she took of the Colonel.

"Dilated pupils, unresponsive," Lee talks to herself. "Whatever it was, it wasn't something nice. And a Colonel? Do you know what service?"

"Evie? Did you pick that up when you checked things out?" Lya asks as she takes her phone back and flips through the pictures. "Maybe I've got a picture of his uniform in here..."

Evie nods, "Yes. He's an Air Force colonel."


	23. Evie's Flashback

(Evie - two weeks before high school graduation)

It had been a good night. Evie had gone into the city in order to catch a movie, some B-level sci-fi flick that had been playing in one of the little theaters off the main stretch. The whole thing had been utterly ridiculous, but she loved every cheesy, foam-costume-filled, stilted dialogue moment of it. Her only disappointment was that no one had been able to join her for it.

Happily sipping upon the remnants of her cola, she crossed main drag on the way to her car. She had had to park a couple of blocks over since this theater had what amounted to a postage stamp for a parking lot. As she and a gaggle of other teenagers cross the road, she glances at the line-up of cars waiting at the light, sitting patiently as they await the opportunity to go.

One of the cars catches her attention. It's a beauty. A black and silver 1957 Mercury Comet. a classic antique. Though she doesn't hold the same interest in cars that her father does, she still notices it with a touch of admiration. Her eyes cross the hood and she briefly meets the eyes of the young man behind the wheel. She smiles and nods...

...and stops. That's not right.

Turning to face the driver, she squints into the shadows and see none other than her brother, Ricky, his face a mask of panic as he realizes that he's been made. His hands clutch the wheel, his knuckles white. His eyes dart to either side, looking for a way around, but he is quite stuck. Unless he wants to back into other cars or run over pedestrians...well...he's screwed.

"That is _not_ one of Dad's cars!" Evie whispers, aghast. She smacks one hand down on the hood and calls out, "Ricky! Goddammit!"

"Evie, get out if the way!" Ricky screams out of the window, eager to flee this embarrassing scene.

"Oh, no. No, no, no," Evie storms around to the passenger side and grabs the handle, yanking the door open before he can fling himself across the seat and hit the lock.

By now, a small crowd of teenagers has gathered on one curb, watching and giggling with interest. They have no idea what is going on and assume that this must be some tiff between a boyfriend and girlfriend.

Just as the light turns green, Evie slips into the seat and glares at her brother. Having little choice other than to drive, at this point, the young man steps on the gas and rolls down the street.

"What are you doing?" Evie fumes. "Don't tell me that you stole this for those Scarlet Snake assholes. You stole it, didn't you? Oh, my god...we are in a stolen car!"

"No! No, no...Evie. I didn't steal it. I'm just..._borrowing_...this one. I swear to God, I'm going to give it back," Ricky stammers as he tries to explain. But, after a second or two, the good, ol' teenage bravado kicks in. Evie is just his sister. It's not like she's an authority figure! "What if I was taking it to the chop shop? It's none of your business what I do. I get good money for bringing in these wheels."

"Yeah, actually, it is my business," Evie snaps. "You're my family and it's my duty to keep you from ruining your life. Why I care, I don't know...but I do. And how long do you think you are going to be able to keep up this life before you get caught? Huh? Are your Snake friends going to come bail your sorry ass out? Nope. That's going to be Mom and Dad."

"Pfft," Ricky scoffs at Evie's words, "Listen to you. You haven't even been accepted into a law enforcement program yet and you are already going full out smokey on me. You're so fucking self-righteous..." He sneers at her.

"Self-righteous?! I am riding in a fucking stolen car with you, right now, trying to scream some sense into your thick head. It doesn't matter if you "borrowed" it. If we get caught in this thing, I am going down with you. Do you honestly think that if I didn't love you that I would even be here, risking my future? No. I would still be walking across that road, drinking my Coke and thinking about how I'm glad that it's not my ass on the line. But I am here. My ass is one the line, too, and...and..." Evie throws up her hands in frustration, at a complete loss for words. She can't even marshal her thoughts into a coherent argument, she's so angry,

Ricky makes a few turns, slipping the car off the main strip and obviously headed for the open road outside of the city. He glares sullenly through the windshield, his joyride completely ruined.

Evie sits in the passenger seat, her arms crossed in front of her. She sits for long moments, stewing in the uncomfortable silence. Glancing out the window, she watches as the buildings fall away gradually and there is nothing outside but darkness and sand.

With a sigh, she turns to Ricky, "You know it's true, right? I do love you. You just...you're being stupid."

Ricky bristles. No one likes to be called stupid, least of all a young man who feels he has something to prove. The problem is that, deep down, he knows she is right and that makes it even worse. He grips the wheel even tighter, trying to think of something to say, anything to refute Evie's words.

She continues, "What are those guys doing with their lives? They're just thugs, Ricky. Just thugs. They're never going to be anything else. All they know how to do is hurt people, to use them, to make themselves feel big and bad and powerful...but they really aren't. Do you really want to be like that?"

"Well, what else is there?" he snaps back. "That's all anyone ever wants! Everyone wants to be rich and powerful. Fuck, even the guy working the cash register at the gas station wants that. And, do you think there's anyone out there that's not willing to step on others to get what they want?"

Evie takes a deep breath and answers, "I don't. You know mom and dad don't. Ian doesn't." She looks askance at her brother, "What about Ian? You know he idolizes you. He thinks you are the best thing ever. Are you going to lead him down this path? You know he has so much more potential than that."

"You...you..._manipulative bitch_!" Ricky growls. "I'm not leading Ian anywhere. He's free to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Don't you bring him into this! Don't you dare!"

"Yeah, well...it doesn't matter whether you like it or if your little feelings get hurt. It's the truth," Evie snaps in return. "What you do will affect him. Just like it affects me and mom and dad. So get over yourself! Your life isn't bad."

Evie snorts and looks at him, completely confused by all of this, "I mean, what the hell, Ricky? You have a good life. Okay, yeah...we're not rich, but we're not stinking poor, either. We don't have to live on the street or eat from garbage cans. No one beats you. I just...I don't understand. I _do not understand_ where this is coming from!"

"You wouldn't," Ricky grouses, his face set in a dark scowl.

"Okay, then. Explain it," Evie turns to face him, challenging him. "Pull the car over, right now, and explain this shit to me."

"No," Ricky continues to drive, ignoring her. The thing is, he's not sure that he can explain it. All he knows is that it's good to feel like part of a group, to be accepted, to run with friends and not feel alone. He's simply made the age-old mistake of choosing the _wrong_ group to run with and he's not ready to accept that it was a mistake. How could it be a mistake? These are his friends! Asking him to just turn on them would be like asking Evie to turn on Saul.

"Ugh! You are..._infuriating!_" Evie growls and sits back in her seat. For a few more, long moments she stares out at the darkened desert. The light pollution from the city behind them makes it impossible to see many stars, but the sky is getting cleared the farther they go.

Eventually, she sighs, "Okay, fine. Do what you are going to do. But, right now, we need to get this car back to its owner. Let's get it washed and put some gas in it." She glances at Ricky nervously, "Do you think the owner has reported it stolen, already?"

"Nah," he answers. "It belongs to an old guy. He falls asleep watching Wheel of Fortune every night. You can see him through his bedroom window. Guy probably won't wake up until tomorrow morning. We can have it back, no problem."

He taps his fingers on the wheel and glances at Evie, "I really was going to take it back. It's just...it's a kickass car and I wanted to drive it."

"I know. But you can't keep doing this."

Ricky grunts noncommittally and looks for a convenient place to turn around. The two ride in silence for a long time. Once back in the city, they run the car through a wash and top the gas off. Hopefully, the old man won't question things if he notices. After all, how bad can a person who randomly washes your car and fills it up be?

They swing by the theater to pick up Evie's car and she follows Ricky back to the old man's house. He carefully parks and then joins Evie. Their ride home is a quiet one, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, they pull up in front of the ranch house where they live.

Ricky gets out of the car and stops, looking at the front porch. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and glares at Evie once more. In a whisper, he says, "I guess you are going to tell mom and dad, huh?"

Evie had been making her way up to the porch steps, but she stops and turns back around. She walks up to Ricky and thinks for a second, regarding him seriously. After a moment, she says, "No. This is our secret. But, if mom and dad ever find out on their own...I love you, Ricky, with all my heart...but, I'm not protecting you."

With that, she turns around and goes inside, leaving her brother to think about his path for the future.


	24. What's Up Doc?

(Hitoshi - Toshiro Kimura's Estate)

"He does not know," Heishi says. "He was between the worlds."

Matsudaira bows respectfully.

"This way, Ryder-sama," he says.

There are others in the home, all clad in unadorned Japanese peasant garb from the Shogunate era, all quietly tending to tasks such as food preparation, cleaning, and - it appears - praying. The hallway leading to Kimura's office is lined by figures kneeling in supplication.

All of whom lower their heads to the floor as you pass.

Matsudaira opens the door to the office, which is also lit by flickering lamps. Simple shadows dance and beckon, while others seem to writhe and form dark-omened kanji that dissolve when you try to discern them. And all of the shadows seem to stretch towards a decorative screen at one end of the room.

"Kimura-san is in the Shrine. He may wake when you approach," Matsudaira tells you.

Heishi moves a panel of the screen aside and takes up post. For a moment, he is not a business-suit clad executive bodyguard, but an ashigaru, a foot soldier from a time long since passed.

Beyond the screen, the space is lit by a single candle. A spare form is kneeling before a statuette whose shadowy outline is quite familiar to you: Izanami.

And you realize the kneeling figure is Toshiro Kimura.

Or, what's left of him.

This is not the man you met at the signing, the Pacific Rim CEO who appeared to be in his early 50's, but a much older man, his hair completely white, his face deeply lined with wrinkles. His eyes are half-closed, with a rheumy edge to them. His breathing is labored.

Before him is a bowl that is filled with a dark liquid. You know, without closer examination, that it is blood. His blood.

A barely audible rasps reaches your ears as Kimura acknowledges your presence by speaking your name.

Hitoshi takes a step towards Kimura. then looks over at Matsudaira.

"Someone explain this please... Someone other than Kimura-san." He says softly

"Hai, Hitoshi-sama," Matsudaira says. "We are the Miezaru Te Izanami, the Invisible Hand of the Goddess. Though she touches all, we are her eyes, her ears, and her hands in the mortal world. To express it in business language, she holds the controlling interest in Pacific Rim. The Board of Directors all serve at her will."

"We do not know the Goddess' mind; we do as we are bidden."

"When the unnatural winter came, Kimura-san acted as She required," Heishi explains. "The barrier protecting the Westview, and the suspension of time within its walls all require power. Though you are Amatsukami, you do not yet have such power. Thus, it became our burden."

"Kimura-san has nearly spent himself, whereupon the burden will fall to me," Matsudaira says. "I am prepared, but I am also afraid. Part of me wants to run, even though that would dishonor me and my clan and require my death to atone. I cannot entreat with her for lenience, but as long as the barrier stands, our flesh and spirit will power it while we still live."

Kimura speaks again, a faint whisper.

"Hai," Matsudaira says. "I am reminded that, in mortal eyes, we are a Yakuza clan operating as a corporation. Our enemies are not without their spies, and a weakened Miezaru Te Ryu will embolden them and threaten our corporate power."

Hitoshi frowns.

"So you give your life force to Izanami to power the protection for my casino.I don't know if I like this. Much as I am thankful for the protection of those I love and that which I own while I was gone, I can not agree with what you are doing. though I have a feeling that you answer only to Izanami, and not to me on this particular issue."

He falls silent and looks over at Heishi.

"They are pledged to the Goddess," is all Heishi says. "Are you ... rejecting her patronage?"

Where Matsudaira looked nervous, he now looks markedly pale. The Invisible Hand is not, it seems, comfortable with the notion of defying the Goddess.

Hitoshi sighs. "No, the abilities she has given me have been helpful, and I'm not rejecting the help and advice she has given. But though I understand Duty, and Honor, Loyalty, and Sacrifice, I've never had anyone sacrifice anything for me. I've always done everything I needed to, myself."

He kneels next to Kimura. "You have given so much for me though you do not know me. The only thing I can do is say Thank you for your service, and hope that one day it is no longer needed."

He stands. "Heishi, It's time we go. Unless there's something else you need to show or tell me."

"Ryder-sama, you stand at a shrine to Izanami," he says quietly. "It is not ... proper to leave without offering a prayer."

Hitoshi nods then quietly bows his head. _"Izanami, Goddess of darkness and Death, let not these people suffer for me. I am the one who sacrifices."_

He raises his head. "I am ready Heishi."

Heishi indicates the space between the panels, and you step back out into Kimura's office. Matsudaira slides the panels closed behind you, hiding the shrine from sight.

"Do you wish to return to the Westview, or attend to something else?" Heishi asks.

Hitoshi stops and thinks for a moment. "This is really all a bit overwhelming for one day so I'm going to need advice. Do you think we should head back, or should we try and connect with the other Casino's and get them on board with the Sanctuary issue.?

"The mortals do not grasp the importance of Sanctuary," Heishi tells you. "Heaven and Earth may be torn asunder, and they are worried about losing profits from unused hotel rooms. You will have to lead, and not be deterred if others do not follow."

"Also, Matsudaira-san is right. You will need to have an eye to your enemies, who do not understand what the Invisible Hand is, or what it does, and see only a rival that is, for the moment, at a disadvantage. If they should test your resolve, you will have to act decisively."

Hitoshi rests his hand on Heishi's shoulder. "I will fight for what I believe in and to protect what I care about. If they test me, they will find that I am not above doing what must be done. I will need help in all this. The Invisible Hand must be my eyes and ears They must help me protect those that can't do so themselves."

He takes his hand off the mans shoulder. "Now, what hotel do you think is most likely to follow the example of the Westview?"

"I am unfamiliar with the individual properties," Heishi says. "In the Yakuza, we would simply make our reach known. People cooperate because they would rather be a friend than an enemy."

Hitoshi scratches his head. "Well shit. Guess we should start visiting them all. What's the nearest to here?"

"You are now the Oyabun of the Invisible Hand. When threats are made, your enemies know it is your voice, but there are no records, no traces of the conversation. Tell Matsudaira-san, and we will speak to each owner in turn without you risking exposure," Heishi says.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Oyabun I may be, but this requires a personal touch. Here in the United States, it's not like Japan. In a situation like this it's best if I represent the Westview accompanied by you for the initial contact and then later on the rest of the men will be the contacts. It shows honestly and good faith."

"Then I would recommend a show of ... force," Heishi says. "The shogun entertains his guests, but the size of his army is made evident. Forgive me, Ryder-sama. I am a soldier and think like a soldier. Speak to Matsudaira for a perspective that is better informed as to modern business practices."

You are nonetheless reminded of the fuss over Musashi's _Book of Five Rings,_ styled as 'the Japanese equivalent of the Harvard MBA' to appeal to American executives.

"A Show of force is a good idea for any Yakuza clans here in Las Vegas, however for the other Casino's, I think a simple face to face meeting will suffice. Sadly, this is not Japan, we can't force them to follow our lead through force. We ask nicely, and then if they don't do it, we proceed to dig up dirt on them that will damage them once things return to normal so that their sales plummet, and their bottom line is hurt. And nothing does that better than making the public not want to stay and spend their money with them."

Hitoshi grins almost evilly.

"Speaking of the other Clans, are there any here I should know about?"

"Matsudaira-san is your ... point person on such matters," Heishi smiles. "I am the _kogatana,_ the hidden knife, the samurai's friend."

"Your old enemies, the Kuroi Kuren - the Yakamuras - likely have people watching you," he warns. "Your rising to the leadership of the Invisible Hand will also draw attention. There will be those who will seek to test your resolve, forgetting that a hand may also become a fist."

"Also, Miss Hanamura is the daughter of Isao Muramasa, leader of the Black Lightning Clan."

Hitoshi nods, a sudden understanding coming to his eyes. "Ah yea, I'm kinda new at having people willing to do the things for me that I'd normally do myself. Sorry about that."

His face contorts in pain at the mention of the Yakamuras and what happened.

"Let them come. They will either join us, or die, ad I almost hope they chose death. I still haven't forgiven them for what they did to Akane."

He lights up a smoke. "Speaking of this whole Yakuza deal and all that, there will be no Yibitsume, no Sepuku. Any of you screw up, you tell me so. We do our best to fix it. You all are too valuable to be taking your own lives or cutting off fingers over what I will see as a small mistake, when we all know there will be enough time to sell your lives for humanity. As for Mika Hanamura, I know. She told me, and I trust her. She has her own decision to make, and I won't get in the way. If that eventually makes us enemies then so be it. I'll deal with it then."

He inhales the smoke and then breaths out. "Funny thing is, I used to hate these things. Damn cancer sticks, but when you find out you and your friends are the only thing standing between the world and destruction, smoking seems like a small issue."

He pauses thoughtfully and rolls the cigarette between his fingers. "What are the chances we can get the Black Lightning Clan to join our cause?"

"The decision to require yubitsume or seppuku is yours, Ryder-sama, but making it known that you will not inflict such punishment may undermine your own authority," Heishi says.

He watches you take a pull off your cigarette.

"Isao Muramasa would indeed be a useful ally, but he will live up to the reputation of his name," Heishi says. "Muramasa's blades were said to be bloodthirsty and share his ill temperament. So it is with the leader of the Kuroi Inazuma. And this is a matter best handled face-to-face. His daughter may be a distraction."

"Oh I never said there would not be punishment, I just think My employees killing themselves and cutting off fingers is a bit extreme when an american ass beating would actually suffice. Still, it's not something I wish to do. I prefer loyalty through honorable actions, and I lead by example." Hitoshi replies heading for the door and back out into the cold.

He pauses and whips out his cellphone.

"Yes Pheobe?" He motions Hieshi over.

"Hitoshi, it's Phoebe," the Fury answers. "Lya and Evie have been questioning the Colonel and Congressman and it turns out the female scion that was attempting to replace the Colonel with a doppelganger was brought to the Congressman's poker game by your fellow board member Doug Mason. We figured you should know... just in case he's involved with Lyman's dealings. Lya's got pictures of the woman as well that you'll need to see when you get back. Are you well?"

"Huh. Well shit. I am well, yes. Was going to go to the other Casino's to setup the programs, but I feel we should come back now. Have you found the girl?" Hitoshi tosses the keys to the Hummer to Heishi and motions for him to drive. Then he gets into the passenger side.

"Negative... the girl and the doppelganger were missing when we checked the room. Lya's supplied photos to security, and we've made the Colonel and Congressman aware of the _entire_ situation. Evie also has news she'll want to share... I believe she's discovered something about Lyman's castle."

"Damn, and I thought I was busy. Nice job." Hitoshi says grinning, but it's a grim grin. He knows having that girl and the doppelganger on the loose was a bad thing.

"Phoebe, see if Lya can get in contact with the Military unit we unfroze and have them be on the lookout for the Colonels doppelganger. They are more likely to listen to us. Better yet get a hold of Alex and let him know. We can't let that doppelganger do whatever it plans to."

"I'll see what we can do," Phoebe answers. "We'll fill you in on the rest once you return."

(Evie &amp; Lya - Sanctuary)

"Very well. Russell, thank you for hooking us up," Lee says. "TJ, let's get rolling. If you follow us, Lya, Detective, we shouldn't have any problems with the checkpoints on the Strip. Shall we?"

"That sounds good, to me," Evie nods in agreement. She looks to Lya, giving her a questioning look.

As far as Evie knows, Alex is the only one of them with any kind of bounty on their head. There's no reason at all for the Guard on the strip to want to detain either of them.

"Arky, we brought supplies," Lya offers again.

"I'll get someone to help you unload," he nods.

The ambulance is in the same re-purposed garage as your own vehicle, though Dr. Lee and TJ are busy dealing with several, 'Oh, by the way ...' requests as other volunteers help unload your car.

"Ayup. Got that. Good, good, some more warm clothes. Folks in these parts weren't ready for this. Look out, coming through!" he says, wrangling a pile of ski jackets under one beefy arm. He himself is swathed in a thick cloak and sheepskin boots.

He bumps into Evie as he turns away from the car.

"Oh, sorry, you were in my blind spot," he says, chuckling. "Thanks, again."

In short order, your two-car convoy is making its way back to the Westview. The shadows of the driveway seem to melt back as you approach, and your way into the garage is clear.

As they pull into the garage, Evie asks Lya, "So, do you want me to run ahead and see if we can get the colonel moved and unfrozen before Dr. Lee gets up there...so we don't have to explain the weirdness?"

"Yeah... no need to expose these guys to even _more_ weirdness than they're already dealing with," Lya chuckles dryly. "Hopefully one of Hitoshi's bodyguards is around to help with the unfreezing process... because if this guy is in mid-overdose we're going to want the doctors to be able to step in quick once he's awake."

"That was my thought, too. I'll run on ahead and see if we can get him moved to an empty room...assuming we can move him. I don't know how all this 'freezing' works and if things are stuck in space when frozen, as well. We'll find out!" As she opens the car door and swings a leg out, she says, "I'll text you the room number."

As she walks past the doctor's vehicle, she spots TJ helping unload some equipment. _TJ...TJ..._ she thinks. _That name seems familiar. Didn't Valeria have a partner who used his initials?_

Shrugging to herself, she walks up and gets his attention, "Excuse me, TJ? I just have a quick question. I don't want to slow you down, here. You wouldn't happen to have been partnered with a woman named Valeria before all hell broke loose, would you?"

"Val? Yeah, she had to leave town. Some family thing, and her father's pretty strict in a head-of-the-household way, apparently," TJ frowned. "She was a good partner."

At the desk, things seem to be running somewhat closer to normal. The Casino floor is quiet for the moment, though the attraction-mode lights and chimes are still going. You can see more of a crowd by the ballrooms, with resort staff gathered by the doors, as some form of explanation is being given to guests.

Overall, everyone is being assured that they are safe, the resources of the Westview Grand are being marshalled to provide shelter for those who are otherwise unable to leave town or return home, and that all of the Westview's services and amenities will remain available within reason.

The Furies hook back up with Lya; one of Hitoshi's bodyguards is standing by the elevators, looking rather foreboding. He says nothing as you return to the suite, with Congressman Malcolm still getting his cookies tossed, and the eerie doppelganger of Colonel Ellison being given a wifely send-off by the unidentified woman.

The real colonel is still lying insensate and suspended in time.

TJ feels for a pulse, drops Ellison's hand. "I can't get any vitals, Doctor, but he's alive."

"Hmm," muses Doctor Lee. She looks between the two men. "Let's get the patient moved out of Party Central, first."

TJ nods and unfolds the stretcher. He nods to Pheobe. "Miss, can you give me a hand? Just a simple one-two-three, and we'll pick the gentleman up and move him to the stretcher."

Doctor Lee is taking a look at the woman and the ersatz colonel. She frowns, but says nothing further.

The closest room is, of course, Hitoshi's penthouse, which he gave you the key to. Or, you can access a room on the floor below.

"Told you I'd be OK," Lya whispers as she nudges Klepto on the way into the suite.

"Knew you would be... doesn't mean I won't worry though," she smirks.

"You're probably not going to get any vitals as long as he's in stasis," Lya offers to to TJ. "Long story best explained by Hitoshi... but once we move him out of here, and with a little assistance, we should be able to get him going again. Let's get him over to Hitoshi's room and grab Mister Stoic by the elevator."

Phoebe nods to TJ as she moves to assist. "Whenever you are ready."

"Weird. It's like moving furniture, not a patient. Even an unconscious patient." TJ smiles at Phoebe. "Thanks for the assist. I'm TJ."

Nonetheless, he straps the comatose colonel onto the stretcher.

"Where are we taking him?" he says. "Doc?"

Doctor Lee is still studying the mystery woman and the fake colonel as if trying to riddle out pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

"Xiǎo shén," she murmurs quietly, almost disapprovingly. "Detective. Is there a glass nearby, or even a needle? It will be helpful if we have an idea of what was used, before it metabolizes in the Colonel's bloodstream."

Hitoshi's bodyguard follows, again saying nothing. It's beyond the whole stoic samurai thing, and more than a little creepy.

TJ raises an IV support pole. He takes a rather large backpack off, and breaks it open to reveal a portable EKG and respiratory console. He suspends a bag of fluid from the pole, and prepares an oxygen mask.

"Ringers lactate," he says, inserting the needle out of long-practiced skills. "How do we ... unfreeze this guy?"

Hitoshi's bodyguard looks towards Lya and Evie. Then, as if noticing her for the first time, he bows formally to Doctor Lee.

"I don't know about needles," Evie says. "But I'm sure that a glass is easy enough to come by. Give me a minute and I'll see what I can turn up."

She pauses and turns back to Dr. Lee, "Oh! The woman's purse is there by bathroom door. You might find some clues in there."

"I'll be back in a second," Evie says as she hurries off to find what Dr. Lee has requested. As she turns, she notices the formal bow the guard give. She says nothing, but makes a note of it. Obviously, there is more to this woman than meets the eye.

"Phoebe," the Fury replies with a small smile.

"That would be our silent friend here," Lya replies with a thumb in the direction of the silent bodyguard. "When you guys are ready to take over, I guess we just ask him real nice to do his thing. From the looks of it, he'll listen to you, Doc."

There's a tumbler that smells like scotch - a nice one, dark and woody - sitting on the nightstand, although it gives Evie a chance to examine the scene, and her sense of _what happened_ clicks into place.

It's a scenario that most would discard as some _Mission: Impossible_ style plot, but which Evie's instincts tell her is accurate.

The colonel, expecting to bed a young woman, but getting a different surprise by way of his drink. He passes out. The woman opens the door to admit the colonel's twin, who dons the real colonel's uniform. ID, keys, access cards, and a phone with a safe combination written down. The double will leave, access the safe's contents, then return.

Depending on the drug used, the colonel would not be able to recall events. He might dismiss the grogginess as a hangover and, if the young woman were still present, that he'd simply dozed off after getting laid.

Evie sees Doctor Lee rummage through the woman's purse, removing a small phial - clearly not perfume. She examines the woman's lipstick and a compact as well, but returns them to their place.

For a moment, Evie eyes meet the Doctor's. For an instant, she is reminded of her encounter with Heimdall, then the aspect of divinity is hidden once more behind the face of a demure doctor.

"All right," Doctor Lee says. "_Qǐng shìfàng zhè míng shìbīng_."

The bodyguard nods his assent, but does not speak.

The EKG unit begins to beep, but there is an off-note to the rhythm that draws a muttered exclamation from TJ, who nonetheless proceeds with taking the colonel's vitals. He recites numbers to Doctor Lee, who nods.

"Looks like rohypnol, but a king-sized dose," TJ explains. "Six hours, maybe longer before he wakes."

"Someone should stay with him," Doctor Lee says. She looks at Hitoshi's bodyguard. "Not you."

The bodyguard bows his head and remains looking down as if he were a child being reprimanded for tracking mud on the floor.

"In the meantime, TJ, perhaps we can return to the main floors and see if others need help," Lee says.

"Sure thing, Doc."

Evie assumes that Dr. Lee is an Asian deity, but which one or even which culture escapes her. She knows nothing about those pantheons and has had little exposure to Asian languages. She guesses that Lee is speaking Mandarin, but it's just a guess. It could just as easily be Korean or Tagalog or some other tongue that she's not familiar with.

At any rate, she tucks that knowledge away and decides to ask Hitoshi about her, later. Evie will simply continue to treat her with the same respect that she would any person, especially someone who is in public service.

The detective walks over to Dr. Lee and TJ, holding the glass," It looks like he was given the drugs with alcohol. I don't know how that may complicate things."

She glances to Lya after Dr. Lee's recommendation, "Do you want to stick around or should I? My only other plan was to find a way to the roof and watch the castle, see if I can spot any kind activity or information that could be useful. But, that's not something that I need to do _right now._"

She grins and adds through a yawn, "Well, that and sleep."

"I can watch the Colonel until he recovers," Lya offers with a wink. "You know me, I can go for days. Get some rest, Evie."

She turns to the Furies. "Same goes for you guys... get some rest while we can."

"Thanks, Lya," she smiles gratefully. Evie looks around and spots a large, comfortable looking recliner tucked in one corner. She walks over and flops down onto it. "Do you think Hitoshi will mind if I sleep here? That way, if anything goes wrong with the colonel and help is needed, I'm right here. Easier than having to run and get me."

"I doubt he'll mind Evie," Lya replies with a smile over her shoulder as she follows the doctor out into the hallway.

"Nǐ zěnme néng gàosù tāmen ne?"

Doctor Lee motions Lya off to the side.

"Ah. Another child of the gods," she smiles. "There is a saying in Western thought that 'god is in the details,' though I am not certain they understand the depth of that insight. Mortals do not recognize us because they are not paying attention."

"You see it, of course, because of your chi. It is what allows you to dance through the world as you do."

"We're you able to detect their chi, Doctor Lee? Is that how you knew? Gods know that would be a handy ability these days," Lya replies. "My father was a Greek aficionado of fine wines, though my mother was of your heritage."

"It comes with years of experience," Doctor Lee laughs. "Mortals are used to seeing the world and dismissing it in the same breath. They see a rock, and think nothing further of it. They see each other in snapshots and frozen moments, like judging a river by a single droplet of water. True wisdom and compassion are possible only when one is willing to look with better eyes.*"

"Ah... not something you can teach, eh," Lya chuckles as she runs a hand through her hair. "Thank you, doctor... whoever you are. Saving that colonel may give these people the best chance we have to get them all to put their differences aside to work for the greater good."

Vaguely, Evie thinks, _I should probably take a shower_ but that thought doesn't last long. Her head has barely laid back on the chair before her eyes are closed and she is deep asleep.

"As your own chi manifests, your perspective will change," Doctor Lee tells you. "You may find the concerns of mortals seem small compared to your own, but it is your choice what you take with you as you grow. Others in the Celestial Bureaucracy may find mortal pain inconvenient; I prefer to remember that pain is the other side of those things we treasure in life: love, music, joy, and happiness."

She notices Evie falling asleep in the chair and quietly motions to TJ. They gather Evie up and move her to the bedroom, where she continues to sleep soundly.

"We have time, Daughter of Mirth," she tells you. "Are there other questions you have for me?"

"Mirth..." Lya laughs hollowly as she runs a hand over her hair. "Yeah... not sure how much good that's going to do these days. I've been trying my best to remain in good spirits, but you can't exactly tell someone whose home has been destroyed by Ice Giants 'Hey buck up, have a drink and party your cares away because things will get better, ' you know? The forgotten people of my city need more than that... which means **I** need to be more than that if I'm going to help them survive this."

She looks at Doctor Lee with desperate eyes. "Please, can you teach me? I'll light the incense and say the mantras every morning if that's what it takes."

"I had not expected to acquire a new pupil," Doctor Lee says. "But voices of Compassion and Mercy are always of value, especially at times where violence and despair are the easier choices."

"I ask for no devotion except practice, and do not even require it," she continues. "Some find fault with such unconditional gifts, even as they benefit from them and see them at work in Heaven and on Earth. All too soon, however, we predicate our affection and care upon an exchange in equal value. We expect people to love us in return, or to reward us for those actions which should be as essential as breathing. We qualify mercy and compassion through laws, when these are not the Laws of Heaven, but those of Man."

"Accompany me as we make our rounds of other guests."

You return to the Casino/Concourse floors and find Karen Ryder.

"Something has changed," she says. "The front desk is getting calls from guests on floors that we had not 'unfrozen,' and I cannot find any of Hitoshi's ... bodyguards. I have sent staff to assist where needed, and the desk is asking guests to assemble in the ballrooms, as with our other guests."

"Miss Ryder?" says one hotel security guard, dusting off a rain slicker that isn't at all suited to the cold and snow outside. "I went out by the pool. There's nothing out there but snow."

Whatever barrier was in place is apparently gone, though you do not know if this is because Hitoshi asked that it be removed, or if some natural limit had been reached/exceeded.

"Um ... hi. Ladies and gentlemen?" TJ fumbles with a microphone. "My name is TJ. I'm a paramedic, and I'm here with Dr. Xuehua Lee from Vegas General. If anyone is in need of medical attention, we will be setting up in the Earhart Room ..."

A short time later, you are taking part in an impromptu clinic, with hotel staff taking patient histories, TJ taking people's vitals, and Doctor Lee speaking with them as needed. Issues range from running out of medication to minor sprains incurred when someone's movement was abruptly restored.

Lee greets each patient warmly, telling them that you are 'in training' without explaining further. She asks you to describe what you see, a question that takes on an added dimension as she pushes you to go beyond the obvious and physical ...

Lya stops one of the security guards before joining the doctor as he makes his way through the area they set up for triage. "Hey... I heard you guys say that the barrier is down and everyone's waking up, right?" She whips out her phone and quickly flips through the pictures to show the images of the woman attending the person attempting to impersonate the colonel.

"You should know that Detective Cartwright of the LVPD and I found these two criminals who had drugged Colonel Ellison in an attempt to impersonate him and break into his safe. The real Colonel has been brought to medical attention and is currently being guarded, so we need to make sure these guys are apprehended before they attempt to either try again or escape the hotel. I have to attend the doctor, but please, if you have any further questions, call Detective Cartwright at this number."

She quickly excuses herself to rejoin the doctor as she makes her rounds and ponders the question put before her.

"I see people in need... but not just because they're hurt physically... they're hurt in here too," Lya replies as she touches her chest over her heart. "It's like we're all drowning in a tide of greed and indifference... and these people are reaching out hoping someone will care enough to grab their hand and bring them to shore."

"Yes, Ma'am," says the security guard. It's clear he may not understand what is going on with talk of barriers and people being 'frozen,' but direct, tangible threats like thieves running about the Westview? No problem.

"To see those things that cannot be seen is an auspicious beginning," Doctor Lee tells you. "Things like greed and indifference may also be invisible, but no less potent. They are simply easier, like a stone rolling downhill, and gain a force unto themselves."

The analogy reminds you of the tale of Sisyphus, and it's not entirely comforting.

"Now, Mr. McGaffin is having difficulty walking," she says, indicating the gentleman sitting beside you. "Where do you see the problem?"

"It's my damn knee," the older man says. "Used to be just when it was cold, but it pretty much hurts all the time, now."

From the way McGaffin is sitting, it's clear he's in pain, holding his left leg straighter. The obvious concerns come to mind - a previous injury or perhaps, arthritis - but in trying to frame things holistically, to see things as a whole, you notice McGaffin is also sitting canted to one side. And you understand the issue is not his knee, but likely a consequence of sciatica or similar back trauma, with the pain being perceived in his knee because he started adjusting his posture to compensate.

Dr. Lee smiles as she sees the comprehension in your eyes.

"So the knee is just a symptom of a greater problem," Lya says as she begins to understand. "If we don't diagnose and treat the actual cause, we end up being about as effective as putting a band-aid on a gaping head wound. Not that this is anything that serious, Mr. McGaffin," Lya reassures the man with a smile after he gives her a worrying look. "In this case I'd have to ask if you've recently fallen on your back, or possibly strained it in any other way?"

"Fallen on my back? Where did you pull that from, young lady?" McGaffin asks.

Before you can temporize, he adds, "Because I did, about a year-and-a-half ago. Slipped on the kitchen floor, boom. Doctors gave me some ibu-whatever and sent me home, told me to take it easy. That ain't my style, really, idle hands and all that. So you're telling me my knee isn't the problem?"

"While knee pain is always a problem, I think the root of it might've been your accident with your back, sir," Lya replies. "Your body tried to compensate for the stress on your back by putting more of the burden on your knees... and eventually it was just too much for the joints. I wouldn't be surprised if you were having foot pain too, sir...it all tends to be connected like that."

Doctor Lee smiles again, and even though it seems restrained, it is a warm, room-filling sensation, the goddess' concern and care radiating from her being.

"Lya, if you will help Mr. McGaffin stand, we will endeavor to make things better," she says.

You understand, of course, that whatever she undertakes will be more than a simple correction to the man's posture, and that in observing the goddess at work, you will have a better understanding of how to move beyond merely giving voice to unspoken pain (and, thus, setting it free), but to _heal._

Lee makes seemingly trivial corrections to McGaffin's stance, telling him he simply needs to remember the correct posture, guiding him gently without remonstration, but also providing him with a rationalization as to why he feels better. You find yourself wondering how often patients who marvel at _the_ doctor who understands their particular problem have crossed paths with the goddess or, perhaps, one of her children.

At one point, she guides your hand to a supporting position, and you feel ... something. Chi. Energy. Like the gentle balm of warm water, easing the knot of wrongness in McGaffin's back.

"Ow, Jesus Lord," McGaffin says, "Oh, that ... hey, that actually feels better. I didn't realize I was standing all cock-eyed. Thank you."

Lee smiles somewhat amusedly at the invocation of the Christian God, but looks at you to see if you recognized, even in the beginnings of understanding, what she did.

"I swear I could almost feel it," Lya replies in wonder. "It was like removing a rock from a stream..."

"You _did_ feel it," Doctor Lee tells you. "Trust your divine blood, Daughter of Joy. Doubt is your mortal side trying to protect itself from truths it is not ready to accept."

"Still," she adds, "Let us see how strong the gift runs in you."

She motions the next patient forward and lets you take the lead ...

Lya nods and walks up to the next patient with a smile. "Hi, my name is Lya and I am here to help. What can I do for you today?"

A nervous swallow, darting glances.

"I'm sorry, I'm wasting your time. I shouldn't be here," the young woman says. She brushes a few strands of hair out of red-rimmed eyes and starts to get up from her chair.

The notes from the staff aren't particularly helpful. The woman is upset about something, but won't say what. TJ indicates her pulse and blood pressure are somewhat elevated, but within normal ranges.

"Helping people is never a waste of time," Lya reassures her gently as she puts a hand on her shoulder. "I can't help unless you tell me the problem."

Lya looks intently at the young woman for any signs that she might be another unfortunate casualty of Lyman's Jotunblut ritual. After seeing what happened to the Lobo member on the street, she has to remind herself to temper her compassion with caution. "I have to ask, though... were you coerced by someone into coming here?"

The woman shows none of the signs of Jotunblut. She is distraught, but not agitated, and not aggressive. But placing your hand on her shoulder begins to unravel the knots of pain and distress that her words only hint at.

"No, I ... it's just that," she hesitates. "I have nowhere to go. I can't go back ... to that. It doesn't matter if we were caught up in some kind of weird time loop like a _Star Trek_ episode."

Where to begin? There are smaller injuries, healing on their own, but there's a tangle of emotion like a black, choking cloud. The spark of a new life, still within the first trimester.

And the child is a Scion.

Lya's eyes widen and she lets out a small gasp as the knowledge of the woman's plight comes to her. Her hand moves from her shoulder to take the woman's hand as Lya sits down across from her and leans forward to talk quietly.

"Look, I am personally friends with the guy who owns this hotel and I can tell you that you don't have to go back to _anything_ if you don't want to. Trust me... no matter how weird or impossible your situation might sound, you're among people who will understand and not judge."

She takes a deep breath. "I take it that what happened... wasn't by choice?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," the woman sobs. "I keep trying to make things better. I thought I'd found someone who cared about _me_ not someone like Anthony. Everything was right for that one night, and then he was gone. And I'm pregnant! Once Anthony finds out, he'll blow up!"

She chokes back another sob.

"He's not a bad man. He drinks too much, and he gets rough when he does, but he loves me. And I cheated on him!"

"It's not always like the stories, is it?" Lya responds as she hands the girl a tissue. "Love can be just as broken as we are, and turn from something pure into a broken, corrupting thing. It's not your responsibility to fix Anthony or fulfill what he thinks love should be. It's time to focus on yourself and the little one you carry... for they will need love too, and give it back to you in droves."

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret, OK?" she takes another deep breath. "My mom went through something similar... though with her it was a slew of boyfriends until she met a guy like the one you met. He treated her like she was treasure on Earth for one night, and then left her with nothing but me nine months later. Maybe if he'd told her what a special gift that was, she'd have treated me better and I wouldn't have run away to live on the streets. It wasn't till I met my dad again that I realized I had a purpose... that I was here to remind people not to forget the happiness and joy this world can still offer."

She sniffs before taking both of the woman's hands in hers and looking her in the eyes. "So let me tell you what your mystery man should have: that child that you carry is going to be _special._ Someday their father is going to come back to tell them that and they will do great things ... but they're going to need _your_ guidance as much as their fathers to make sure they do it for the right reasons. You are important... and when that child is born you will be its entire world."

"If you need help, we can find you a room here so you can be safe and have what you need. We can give a description of Anthony to Security if you like, and I have another friend who is an officer with the LVPD who is staying here."

"I can't go to school because I can't afford it. I can't get a job that pays more than minimum wage because I don't have an education. And all Anthony cares about is whether dinner's on the table when he gets home," she says. "The only open doors I seem to find are the ones that get slammed shut in my face."  
She shakes her head. "I know. That's not fair. You just offered me help, but I'm not looking for a handout. A job with decent wages, a chance for me to finish college, that's all I need. And then the world will be special for my daughter because I can help make it special."

"First things first," Doctor Lee tells her. "Ms. Bach will see to your having a room. You are in good health, and the child is in good health. I will recommend a colleague who can see to your needs, and you can begin building a real family for your daughter."

The power of those words underscores the goddess' power. Small things, seemingly fragile things that combine to become stronger than the harsh realities of an unkind world. Of course, the child will already have some interesting godparents - a band of Scions.

"Thank you," the young woman says. "I know it's silly, that seven months have passed, and, maybe Anthony figures I walked out on him, and he's gone for good. But I don't want to be alone. I'd come here to apply for a job, like I said, and I hope I still can."

"So hey," Lya asks as she escorts her to the front desk to look for a good room, "like I said, my friend Hitoshi owns the hotel so I'm sure we could work out something where you work for room and board and whatever you need while you can... and once you're needing to be off your feet I'm always looking for somebody to help run the website and message boards for Lya &amp; the Furies."

She hands the girl her card. "Either way, we're always around if you need help... especially if Anthony tries to bother you."

It's at that moment when Lya's phone rings and she checks to see that Evie is calling. Hopefully things are still all right with the colonel...

"Hey Evie... aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"Yeah, I just woke up briefly. I figured I'd check in and make sure things are okay before I traipse back to the Land of Nod," Evie answers.

A clerk at the desk listens to your request and nods in agreement.

"Mr. Ryder has always been charitable in that regard," he says. "There isn't housekeeping service at present, but we do have a room available for you, Miss Griffin."  
"And a job application, which will be circulated among the Westview Group owned-and-operated facilities. Franchise locations - mostly the restaurants - leased by other companies tend to their own hiring. But that application covers everything from hotel services to the casino floor, though certain positions will also require a background check if you're handling money or working as a dealer or croupier."

"Main thing to be aware of is that everybody is awake...and I do mean_everybody._ The barrier is down and Hitoshi's guards are nowhere to be seen. Neither is he, actually... haven't seen him since we left for Sanctuary. I gave pictures of our friends in the hotel room to Security, but we're probably going to want to keep a guard on duty. Meanwhile I'm down in the lobby learning a new trade with Doctor Lee, and I've made a new friend named Barbara that you should meet sometime. Trying to get her set up with a room before I get back at it. Turns out we've all got a _lot_ in common."

Lya chuckles. "Sorry if you can't get back to sleep after all that."

She covers the phone receiver for a moment as she thanks the clerk and moves the application over to Barbara. "You've got my number on my card, so call me _anytime_ if you need anything. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you when I see Hitoshi again, and you can meet my friend Officer Cartwright if you need help with Anthony, ok?"

"Oh, shit," Evie mumbles. "Okay, I'll coordinate with the ladies here and see what we can do to cover Colonel Fake-o...if he's still in his room. It could be that he's already slipped out."

She pauses and considers. for a moment. Slowly, she continues, "Buuuut, that might not be a bad thing. If he hasn't left, maybe we can tail him to wherever he's going and figure out what he was trying to accomplish. And, since you were clever enough to change the combo on his notepad, we know he won't be able to actually do anything if he does get away from us."

"Of course, that depends entirely upon them continuing with their plan. They may call it off since Colonel Kissy-face is missing. They'll know something is amiss. Still it might be worth following him."

Fortunately, the computer in Hitoshi's penthouse has access to the Westview's security grid, and Evie is able to check the hallway without leaving the room. A quick review shows that the fake colonel and the mystery woman haven't left their suite.

Still, this isn't a complete surprise. Congressman Malcolm would have resume boffing his 'personal assistant,' and might not even realize he's been caught _in flagrante delicto_ for six months. The fake colonel would realize the real colonel is missing, leaving him with the option of aborting any plans of taking his place, or continuing the charade with a very strong chance he'd be exposed in short order.

It had only taken a moment to access the security cameras, so Evie had kept Lya on the phone as she checked.

"Okay, it looks like no one has left. That's not surprising. They may have called it off," she says. "I can continue to keep an eye on their room from here while the Furies help guard Ellison."

"So, you have someone I should meet?" Evie continues, now that the frontmost question in her mind is answered. "I'd be happy to meet with Barbara, anytime. Just let me know when would be good for her and we can work it out."

"You be careful, Evie... don't do anything without back-up, ok?" Lya cautions. "Keep in mind what Dr. Lee said about them... we don't know what they can do. I'll be down in the lobby, but I'll be sure to check back up there with you guys when I'm done. I'll let Barbara know... I'm sure she'll be glad to hear that she's got friends. Later, girl."

Lya hangs up the phone and turns to Barbara. "Hey... do you have a picture of Anthony you can share? Nothing will happen unless he tries to start something, I swear. I just want to pass it on to my friend Evie. She's really nice, and she can help you with the legal mumbo jumbo if things get too bad with Anthony."

"No worries. Just surveillance and recon, if needed. I won't engage. Promise. I'm in no hurry to find out if I have super healing!" Evie chuckles and adds, "You watch yourself, down there. I'll ring you if I see any activity from the colonel's room. See ya!"

Evie hangs up the phone and shoves it back into her pocket. She puffs out a breath as she leans back in her chair and watches the surveillance camera. Evie chews on her bottom lip as she thinks. What has happened to Hitoshi? Where is he? What happened to the barrier?

_Damn it. I hope he's okay. And, Alex is okay. I don't want to have to go find both of them_ Evie's leg begins to bounce nervously.

She fishes in her purse and takes out a faded print wedged in the cover of a datebook. It's a photo of her and Anthony, in front of an oversized Dodge truck. He's wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a faded Dallas Cowboys jersey. She's in short-shorts and a bikini top, sandals dangling from her right hand. He's leaning, arms crossed, against the truck bed; she's sitting in the passenger seat, her bare feet propped up on the dashboard.

The photo strikes you as a guy showing off _things_ he owns: a big truck, and a sexy girlfriend. Property.

Lya uses her phone to take a picture of the faded photo the best she can so she can pass it on the Evie. "There we go," she says as she hands the photo back.

"You can do this, Barbara," Lya says as she gives her an encouraging smile. "Think of it as a second chance to take control of your life and make it what you want it to be. You can check out your room, and if you're up for it later maybe I can introduce you to the rest of my friends if you like. In the meantime, though, I should get back to the doctor so I can complete my rounds."

Barbara nods, reassured by the support you and others have offered without asking for something in return. She remains at the front desk to fill out the employment application - there are no guests lining up behind her to check in or out - then heads for the elevators.

"She's in 421," the desk clerk tells you. "I've made a notation on her invoice so Security knows she's fleeing from probable domestic abuse. Our people will keep an eye on her."

"Yes," Doctor Lee smiles approvingly when you return. "It really is that simple. Mortals - and sometimes gods - lose sight of that too easily."

None of the remaining patients are as challenging, providing another lesson. Compassion is not a burden, a load that must always be shouldered in self-sacrifice. Instead, it is in recognizing each other's burdens that we free one another to offer help when it matters the most.

"Your gift will grow as you use it," Lee tells you. "There will be times where it seems a small thing in the face of that which is larger and stronger. Do not lose heart, and do not be afraid to reach out."

She gives you a small ring, wrought from white gold and set with a cabochon of jade. Amid the pale green, there is a brighter streak.

"The stone will change as your chi manifests,*" she says. "I will be nearby, for a time. Walk the path of the heavens."

"You honor me," Lya replies as she dons the ring on her right hand and bows with her hands together. "It's like they said in the movies... it's the small deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay, right? I'll do my best to spread the word... and maybe together we can all make this world right again."

She sighs and looks around at all the people looking for help midst all the turmoil caused by Lyman's actions and feels that spark of hope flare once again inside her.

_First things first, Lya... time to check on Evie and see how Colonel Kissy-Face is doing._

The line of patients diminishes without further serious need. You are free to return to the Penthouse, or make other inquiries.

Lya takes the elevator back up to the Penthouse to check back with Evie and the Colonel. If she's able to help the Colonel with her newly learned powers, maybe he can fill them in on what's so important in his safe.

_And if we're lucky, maybe he can help us with Sanctuary and find out what happened to Alex..._


	25. Evie's Dream

(Evie's Dream)

Your dreams tend to be mundane things, a sorting-out of the day's events, or an occasional wistful memory. Rarely are they things of insight or vision.

Perhaps fueled by the sight of the Keep, or whatever people are calling it, your thoughts wander to the sheer walls of the massive fortress and its surrounding no-man's land of icy fields and the deep ravine to which you'd returned after your journey to Hel's domain.

The sky of Asgard. Or perhaps even a slice of the realm, merged somehow with the mortal world. There's a tug at your heartstrings, a part of you that recognizes_ home,_ even if you've never been there, and are technically a child of Earth.

And in a moment that _has_ to be a dream, you feel yourself taking wing, not in the manner of a ship tossed by wind and wave, but travel of a more purposeful sort. You know where you are going; you just don't know the how and why of it ... yet.

Still, your arms flail for a purchase that isn't there, and you land rather unceremoniously, albeit in one piece.

Someone chuckles.

"Ho, there, now, Heimdallsdottir. Baby steps. Can't just go battering down the doors of the Nine Worlds," someone says, helping you to your feet.

The man seems oddly familiar, as if you've seen him before. But enough is so unfamiliar as to set the mind on end that you have trouble finding his name, when it should be obvious in the way that water is wet.

"Hmph, yes, well that's to be expected. You certainly shouldn't be able to do that, and I wouldn't recommend you try it without a way of knowing where you are in the first place," he says.

Wait. You remember him from Sanctuary, the man in the cloak who helped unload the car.

"Where am I? Who are you?" you ask, somewhat reflexively.

"You're not quite anywhere, Evie Cartwright," he tells you. "And you can call me All-Father."

"All-Father," Evie murmurs the name softly, rolling it around in her head. It's so frustrating! She knows that she knows who this is. It's right there! But, it flits along the edges of her thoughts, like a butterfly that brushes the tips of her fingers as she tries to grasp it.

Despite that, she gets the feeling that she likes All-Father. He seems...powerful and old, like a grandfather who hasn't let time wear him down, a wizened bear of a man. The corners of her mouth turn up at that, a comforting thought, _Grandfather..._

She tries to turn in a circle and look around, but she finds this place disorienting. No matter how much she wants to look, she decides that it is probably best to just focus on All-Father, lest she lose her dream-lunch.

"Okay, so...why am I here?" she asks. A bevy of other questions flit through her mind, all circling around Fimbulwinter and how to stop it. But, that is the one that she actually voices. Well, for now, at least.

_Baby steps, Heimdallsdottir._

Now that the All-Father is there with a steadying hand, your mind seems to be making sense of the chaotic whirl of colors. It's like a time-lapse image of a freeway, or even of the Vegas Strip - light and motion all blurring together, only so rapid that the light is separating as if passing through a prism.

"I'm on Bifrost," you say. Even though the term isn't entirely familiar to you, you are instantly confident in your assessment. You are standing on the fabled Rainbow Bridge between Asgard and Midgard - Earth. Where Heimdall stands watch.

"Others have done as you have, not all of them Aesir," the All-Father tells you. "The mind is more powerful than mortals care to admit. A tool, yes, but also a weapon. They are dismissed as dreamers and madmen."  
"There is a reason your father, Heimdall, stands watch from this vantage," he says. "Unless barred by magic or the artifice of other gods, from here, you can see _everything._"

He spreads his hands to take in the vista beneath you, then brushes the hair back from your eyes. "You were so tired that the anchors that hold you in place weren't set. It's time to go back, Evie. But I will give you a gift to make sure this doesn't happen again until you are ready ..."

You wake. Not with a start, but a comfortable, languorous stretch. And, despite being in an unfamiliar bed, a corner of your mind knows exactly where you are.

And it isn't in the sense of 'in a penthouse at the Westview Grand,' but_ exactly_ where you are. You can't think of a coordinate system that doesn't immediately resolve into precise values. Altitude. Longitude. Latitude.  
The only discomfort is from your key ring pressing into your hip. As you reach into your pocket to reposition them, your fingers brush against an unfamiliar shape.

Taking your keys out, you see the shape is a keyfob you don't remember having, an oak leaf made of burnished silver. And that is when the All-Father's name returns to your lips. Odin. The Wanderer, whose symbols include the oak leaf. Smiling, you return your keys to your pocket.

"Dang it, Odin!" she mumbles, her tone light and a smile on her lips. "Sent me back before I got to ask any real questions. Not fair!"

_He probably did that on purpose. 'If I don't send her back now, she'll never shut up!_ she thinks with a chuckle.

For a few quiet moments, she lays there and considers going back to sleep. While this has been a lovely nap, her body still craves more. However, she figures she had best check in, first, just to make sure everything is still running smoothly.

She throws her legs over the edge of the bed and stands, stretching again. As she makes her way over to the colonel to check on him, she digs around in her pocket for her phone.

"What are you doing up?" asks Klepto. "Colonel Kissy-Face is still sacking z's."

Evie flops down into a nearby chair and grins, "Colonel Kissy-face? You realize that I'm never going to be able to look at him, again, without thinking about that."

She laughs softly and says, "Ah, well. It can't be any worse than the time Saul nicknamed one of the guys over at the prison Warden Pornstache. Thanks gawds I didn't have to talk to him very often..."

As she settles in, she continues, "I just had a short dream-chat with Odin. I was so tired that I sort of took a trip to the Bifrost because my mind wasn't anchored properly. I guess it's one of my gifts that haven't blossomed yet? I don't know. Being a scion is weird."

"But, when I got back, I found that I...well...I know where I am. Like, _exactly _where I am. Not just, 'I am in the hotel' but 'this is where I am in relation to everything on earth.'"

She shrugs and says, "Odin sent me back and I woke up. I figured that I would check in with Lya and make sure everything is still okay before I go back to sleep."

"Asgard?" Klepto asks. "I suppose it's more exciting than I make it sound, but I've seen Olympus and Themyscira."

"Lya went downstairs with the Doctor and TJ," Phoebe says. "Toxic and Ori are crashed, over there."  
"I'm awake," slurs Orithia. "Gimmesec."

"No, no...I don't think I actually got to Asgard. I was on the Bifrost, the bridge between Asgard and Earth. Though, I'd really love to see Asgard someday," she smiles. "I'm sure Olympus and Themyscira are exciting! But, if you've seen them enough...I suppose it's like me living in Vegas all my life. Everyone else is all "Oooh! Vegas!" and to me, it's just home."

She nods, "Everything seems quiet enough. I'll just check in real quick then catch a little more sleep. Wake me up, though, if you get tired. Okay?"

She dials Lya's number. 


	26. You're In the Army Now

(Alex - The National Guard Compound)

"Lieutenant Drake?" someone called out over a speaker. "Approach the gate and present your ID. Whoever you're with, please hold where you are and keep your hands in sight."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Hands in sight!" came the order.

Alex took a deep breath and called on his father's gruff non-com, no-nonsense attitude. "Son, check the Lieutenant's ID and stop wasting our time, or I'm going to strip you buck naked and toss you out in the snow for being an idiot," Alex warned. Drake's ID was checked and they were admitted. They were separated and hustled off to interview rooms. It was over an hour before someone came to speak to him.

"Name?"

"I'd like to speak to the OC, please," Alex said.

"Name?"

"The OC. I did say please."

"Name?"

"Donald Duck."

"Don't get cute, asshole. Name."

"Duck, Donald. Corporal. Serial number 1-2-3-4-5-6," Alex said.

"All right, we'll play it your way. You're not going to like it," his interrogator said. He opened the door and motioned for two MPs to come in. One had his weapon drawn and took a bead on Alex; the other motioned for him to hold out his hands, a set of shackles and a hobble at the ready.

"Where's my orange jumpsuit?" Alex sneered.

"Shut your mouth," the MP told him. "Hands. You fuck around, Pete'll put a round right between your eyes."

"He fucking gave me your name, Pete," Alex said. "He must not like you."

"Shut up," Pete answered.

"Pete, Pete, Bo-Pete," Alex sang deliberately off-key. "Banana nana fo-Pete ..."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Fee-fie-mo-meet / Nice to know you Pete," Alex continued. He grinned at the other MP. "Wanna play?"

"Sit him down," the interrogator said. "Name?"

"You already know who I am."

"Okay, we do. Why should we give you back to your buddies in the castle?"

"Did they ask nicely?" Alex countered.

"We need to know why they want you so badly."

"We got a thing, goin' on," crooned Alex. "Fuck if I know. Never seen 'em before."

"Guys blow up your house, you don't know who they are?"

"No. And I'll probably have to sue them over the house," Alex frowns. "I'm pretty sure my insurance company won't cover that."

"Yhis whole, 'Son of Tyr,' thing. What's that, a title? You were all part of the Viking Scouts when you were kids?" the interrogator asked.

"Yea, verily I say unto thee, thou art off thy rocker," Alex replied.

"Does the name Jason Lyman mean anything to you?"

"Well, if you think 'Son of Tyr,' means something, 'Son of Loki,' should really make your day."

"All right, North. CO will be in to speak to you in a bit."

It was just under an hour before an officer in battle utilities entered the room, escorted by MPs with their rifles at present-arms.

Alex remained seated. No one argued the point.

"Alex North. Son of Tyr," he said. "What's that make you, some kind of prince or minor lordling? I'm sorry, but we here in America did away with all that nobility stuff in 1776."

"We've been over your records, and you are the son of Franklin and Rachel North of Baltimore, Maryland. Good education, turn in the Army as a JAG officer, then a private law career. What's with this pagan religion shit?"

Alex frowned. He glanced at the officer's insignia. "I haven't claimed to be anything, Major."

"Tell me where you've been for the past six months."

"Prisoner, for a bit. Fought a troll. Then went for a chat with the Norse Goddess of Death. That was fun. But when I came back, six months had passed, Vegas was sporting a new snow fort, and I hear the occupants have me on their most-wanted list," Alex told him.

"And you're claiming you don't know what that's about?"

"No one's bothered to tell me."

"Fine. What do you _think_ this is about?" the Major asked.

"The End of the World. Snorri Sturluson and the Poetic Edda, not St. John and the Book of Revelation," Alex answered. "But you must know that, right? Talked to someone at the University? Google?"

"So I'm to believe a bunch of ... frost giants ... are camped on our doorstep and asking for the Son of Tyr as what, the kickoff to Ragnarok?"

"Something like that."

"North, I'm a proud American and a devout Christian," the Major said. "I believe in what the Holy Bible says, not in some Norse superstition. Tell me what these clowns want with you."

"I'll say it again: I don't know. Revenge? Sour grapes? It's real enough to them."

"But not to you?"

"Oh, it's my head their asking for. It's _very_ real to me," Alex said. "But it doesn't matter. They're not the good guys, Major. Like I said. Revenge, some kind of twisted sacrifice ... it isn't going to make any of what's out there disappear."

"Some folks out there think it might."

"Well, then, some folks can come say that to my face."

"Word hasn't quite gotten out that you're here," the Major told him. "But it will. And it might surprise you as to who's suggesting we hand you over if we find you."

"All right, Lieutenant. You look like you're doing all right in the clothes department, so here's how it works," the Major says. "We've taken over the Las Vegas Convention Center, and thank whatever gods are running amok that we've run out of those ghastly hot dogs. We've hit just about every grocery and warehouse store that hadn't already been ransacked. Resorts have been good about chipping in, but we can't put people in anything higher than the first four or five floors, depending on the building's facing. Might as well stick 'em in a meat locker."

"We'll give you an escort, and ask that you remain inside the military cordon."

"Major, have the bad guys asked for anything else?"

"Immediate and unconditional surrender," he frowned. "All civic authority to be remanded to approved individuals, blah, blah, blah. Alex North, the Son of Tyr, and any who style themselves to be allies of the Aesir are to be handed over without conditions."

"Lieutenant Drake has some strong opinions about that," Alex said.  
"He does, and I agree with him," the Major said. "You were posted in Who-gives-a-fuckistan, so you know the rules as well. But, like I said, there are some folks who believe handing you over solves all of our problems, instead of creating more."

Alex's escort happened to be Lieutenant Drake and two soldiers.

"Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant North," he said.

Both men saluted.

"Shit. Alex North? The Aesir?" asked one.

Drake nodded.

The man who inquired about North's identity offered a second fist-to-heart salute. "An honor, my Lord."

"Relax. A circumstance of birth, and it doesn't make me your superior under any lights," Alex said.

"Not my patron, anyway," the soldier grinned.

"Thor?"

"I'd rather not say, other than it's not Loki," the soldier told him. "It's personal. Corporal Brian Jensen, by the way."

"All right, button it up," Drake said. "Let's give you the cook's tour, and treat you to an MRE.*"

"Really? You hit up the resorts for supplies and we get MREs?"

"Civvies are getting the real food. Troops have to take one for the team," Drake told him. "Good old home cooking."

Alex laughed. Actually, the thought of a mess-hall sized pot of store-bought macaroni-and-cheese wasn't all that appealing ...

The civilians were packed into the convention center, with cots spilling out into the hallways. People seemed to have settled into a routine, but there were shell-shocked looks on their faces, the expressions Alex remembered from villagers who kept their heads down while the Mudjehadeen ran roughshod over everything.

At the same time, people were coming together. The school district was holding modified classes. Stationary bikes and other exercise equipment had been commandeered to provide the necessary physical activities for the refugees. And a medical pavilion/clinic had been set up.

"We still have a presence over at General," Drake explained. "There's a lot to be said for proper facilities. But we have volunteers making the rounds of the other communities, except for one or two groups that aren't playing nice."

"How are people taking the whole Ragnarok thing?"

"Most folks are trying not to think about it. Some are convinced it's happening because there's not enough Jesus, so you'll be getting an earful from that quarter, too."

"You haven't said anything about our friends out there," Alex asked. "I can't imagine they're just sitting around playing patty-cake."

"They're not. Area around the castle is pretty much a no-man's land," Drake said. "Vehicles draw fire from catapults, trebuchets, whatever those are. And they have forces with firearms, as well."

"My _gyoja**_ calls them ein-something," Jensen said.

"Einjehar. Warriors summoned from Valhalla to fight for whoever pays a tribute of food and drink," Alex explained. "Not quite undead, but not living soldiers with a mind to staying alive."

"A lot of whom like playing World War II dress-up," Drake frowned. "Took a lot to change the ROE***, but we don't fuck around with them anymore. We just open fire, or they get close enough to lob grenades or suicide our lines. Ain't seemed to cut into their numbers, though."

"I got the impression they've been ... recruiting ... for some time," Alex said. "Got a decent-sized force and all they need is a mead hall to conjure up reinforcements."

Jensen's eyes widened. "How's it work? Can we do the same thing?"

"I don't know the details, so I'm not sure," Alex said. "Can you ask your_gyoja,_ is it?"

"Priestess. Maybe. The clans had their own network and emergency plan," Jensen said. "But they won't open the door for just anyone."

Alex didn't notice the guardsman at first.

"Alex? Shit, it is you!" Mark Jeschke exclaimed, followed by a more restrained, "Lieutenant, Sir. I know Alex on the civilian side."

"At ease, Sergeant."

"Look, I'm due on post, but ... watch out. Megan found out about the bullet, and then this whole thing broke loose. Blood in the water, Alex," his friend told him.

"Oh, that's just grand."

"What do you mean, '... found out about the bullet'?" Drake asked,

"Bullet. As in, 'I got shot,' and, more to the point, took a cop-killer round in the chest that was stopped by a ballistic vest," Alex explained.

"And you're telling me there's something more to the story?"

"Yeah. Got a knife?" Alex asked.

Drake cautiously handed over a utility folder; Alex flicked it open. He glanced around, then drew the blade quickly across his palm, the cut welling with blood.

"What the? You're not summoning one of those ein-whatever things, are you?" Drake exclaimed, his hand drifting back to his holstered sidearm.

"No," Alex says. "And, gods, I hope this works like I think it does."

He tipped his palm to one side, let the small amount of blood that had pooled drip into a 'cup' made from the foil wrapper of his MRE. His hand was uninjured.

Drake blinked. "Son of a bitch. You healed."

Jensen gaped. He gave Alex another fist-to-heart salute. "You _are_ the Son of Tyr."

"So I'm told," Alex said. "If that means anything to you, Corporal Jensen, don't spread it around."

"So ... you got shot by a pre-frag round, which Sergeant Jeschke recognized, but you shrugged it off?" Drake asked.

"Three prefrag rounds, actually. One to the trauma plate, one in the gut, and the one Mark spotted was a graze. Only now, the reporter he works with is putting everything together."

"Great. Gotta pass by media staging to get to HQ and 'City Hall,'' Drake said. "Can you heal others?"

"Beats me. Never tried. But I'm not about to ask for volunteers. Let's say, 'no,'" Alex told him.

Jensen was still staring at Alex. "Shit, this changes everything."

"I thought you worshipped a different god or goddess."

"I do. And it's one thing to believe, but ... to see it manifest! You're the Son of Tyr. He's real. All of this is real!" Jensen exclaimed.

"Don't go full Viking on me, Jensen," Drake warned. "Now, that looked pretty impressive, and there appears to be blood on my knife, but this is Vegas. Got a street full of magicians and hucksters and places that'll gladly take your money."

"I know what I saw, and I know what I believe," Jensen said quietly. "Sir. I stand by my oath as a member of the Army National Guard. But this is gonna shake shit up."

"It might not," Alex warned. "Look, when ... when I first learned about the whole Son-of-Tyr thing, I swear someone on the radio said, 'Death to the Son of Tyr!' ... but the helo pilot heard something else, and there was no record of any communications at the time we got our asses shot down."

He avoided mentioning Valeria. He wondered if she was still out there, being a paramedic, or if Fimbulwinter descending upon the world meant the All-Father had called her to more pressing duties.

"So you're saying people won't believe what's right in front of them?" Jensen frowned.

"Not because they think you and I are Section 8, Corp," Alex explained. "But because if they open the door _that_ much, if they start believing in _other _gods, it throws a monkey wrench into everything. What does it mean if you're Catholic, or Jewish, or Muslim? I know a couple of atheists who will still cry, 'bullshit!' It's just a question not a lot of people are prepared to ask themselves."

"Okay, then," said Drake. "We're going to march right into HQ. We're not here to take pictures or answer questions. North, you're not under my command, but I'll recommend you keep your mouth shut until we're clear of the media line. Though I'll warn you, City Hall ain't going to be much of an improvement once they learn you're here."

"Let's go," Alex said.

They made it most of the way, and then it was like a stampede. Someone spotted Alex, tapped a colleague's shoulder, and there was a mad scramble of reporters and photographers trying to get close as Drake led the way to the meeting rooms that had been appropriated as a command center for the Guard and city government.

"Alex!"

"Alex, are you really the son of a Norse god?!"

"Alex, do you know Thor?"

"Alex, any comments on the shooting last year?"

"Alex, are you human?"

"DEATH TO THE SON OF TYR!"

Several people scream.

There's a double clap of thunder, followed by shouts from several guardsmen. Perhaps because he had a split-second to brace, perhaps because it's no longer a surprise for him to be assaulted in this manner, the shots don't knock Alex flying. One to his right side, the second in his left shoulder.

Clutching the lower of the two wounds, Alex coughs and spits up some aspirated blood. His face works as he struggles to remain standing, waves Corporal Jensen off.

"No. Let them see. Let them fucking see," he rasps. There's another coughing spasm, but no froth of blood on his lips. He shrugs his left shoulder out of his jacket, and then his bloodied shirt. A puckered bullet wound heals as people watch.

"Alex?" asks Megan Whittaker. "Are you all right?"

"Seen enough? Turn it off," Alex glares at the photographer. He looks around, sees several guardsmen still wrestling with the shooter, far too large of frame to be a gang member. One of Lyman's paid mercenaries, perhaps?

The man is still struggling and redoubles his efforts as he realizes Alex is standing nearby.

"News flash. I'm not the son of the God of Mercy," Alex says, letting fly with a right cross that knocks the man's head aside. Surprisingly, the man takes it and spits at Alex.

"Hagel, Loki!" he says, glaring defiantly. He shrugs off the restraining guardsmen and lunges for Alex.  
Several rifles bark in triple-burst fire. The man drops, blood pooling beneath him.

"Get the Lieutenant under cover, now!" barks Drake.

"Corpsman!" Drake shouts as they quick-march Alex into a repurposed meeting room.

"Whiskey tango, Drake?" the Major says.

"Looks like we had a wolf among the sheep, just waiting for Lieutenant North to put in an appearance," Drake said.

"Ten-mil with hollow points," says another guardsman, holding the weapon in a gloved hand.

"All right, first things first. North, are you injured?" the Major asked.

"I hurt like hell, but, no, Sir, I'm good to go," Alex said.

"Then smile and be nice to the corpsman. We're going to take blood, and that isn't a request," the Major said. "Get some towels and water, let the man clean himself up. And get ... shirt size, North?"

"Are we talking military sizes?" Alex asked.

"Too small or too large, right?" the Major grinned. "No. We actually have gear that fits, now."

"Extra-large, please, Sir."

Alex was changing into a fresh BDU shirt when the politicians showed up: the Mayor, the Chief of Police, District Attorney Chris Clemens, and Assistant District Attorney Soleil Hunter.

"Quite the entrance, Mr. North," Mayor William Collins said.

"No bullshit stories about wearing a vest this time, I see," said Chris Clemens.

"And if I'd told you I survived a point-blank shot with cop-killer bullets, would you have believed me?" Alex replied.

"It's impressive," Soleil Hunter said. The others might think she was giving him an appreciative, appraising look, but there was no coy double-entendre this time. The direct look in her eyes clearly established her as another Scion.

"Hello, Sunny," Alex said. "What I don't get is why they keep trying."

"I don't see that it matters," the Chief said. "Back when you joined the DA's office, we began processing a concealed-carry permit for you, North."

He presented Alex with a cardboard box, a Sig-Sauer P226, a standard for law enforcement and civilians such as members of the District Attorney's office.

"Now, I understand you quit, but the Mayor and I agree you're probably better off having a sidearm," the Chief explained. "Maybe knowing you're carrying will back the bad guys off a bit, since they seem to be banking that the right hit will take you down."

"Well, if they roll out a howitzer, duck," Alex told him. "Thank you, Chief. I'm not planning on a High Noon style showdown. If I can take a bullet, there's no reason to assume they can't."

"When did you learn about this whole Son of Tyr thing?" asked Clemens.  
"It happened after my chopper got shot down in Afghanistan," Alex said. "'Hi, how are you, I'm the Norse God of War, and you're my kid. See you around.'"

_And I'm not about to tell you what gifts unlock my powers, Sunny_.

"And that you were unkillable?"

"Nope, sorry. Didn't get an instruction manual. I didn't know shit until I got shot a few months back," Alex said. "Tyr may be the God of War, but I'm just a lawyer."

"That still leaves us with a serious problem," Mayor Collins said. "None of us are keen on the idea, you understand, but we can't put the citizens of Las Vegas at risk. We might have to hand you over."

"Then I expect you to be honest with me and tell me to my face," Alex said. "I don't believe you'd be doing anything but buying a temporary reprieve. According to Norse legend, the Fenris wolf bites off Tyr's hand when Tyr tricks him into being bound by an enchanted cord. Fenris breaking free is what starts Ragnarok. So this whole hand-over-the-Son-of-Tyr thing could just be a grudge match ... or it could be a twist in the prophecy. Fenris freed means the End of the World."

"You're going to tell me you believe in prophecy?" Clemens said. "Should we check our horoscopes to see if they say today would be a good day to kick off Ragnarok?"

"I'm saying that we aren't necessarily facing a free choice. If the prophecy were to say that the Son of Tyr would be betrayed," Alex said, conveniently looking in Soleil's direction, "but it didn't say anything about _who_ would betray him, it could be anyone, including a little kid on a street corner."

"I think I understand," the Chief says. "Take a burglar. That he wants to hit a specific house isn't the question. If the door is unlocked, he'll go in through the door. If a bathroom window is open, he'll go in through the window. If there's an alarm, maybe he'll hit the next house over. But the burglar _will _strike."

"Then can we lay a trap for them?" Mayor Collins asked.

"I don't like that idea," Soleil Hunter said. "They're _gods._ We're outclassed."

"Ma'am, they're not the God I learned about when I was young," the Major pointed out. "No disrespect, North. There's clearly something more to you than meets the eye, but that doesn't mean I'm throwing out my Bible in favor of some ancient Norse poem."

"No, no traps. Soleil's right," Alex said. "I won't have good men and women throw their lives away."

"A martyr complex isn't any better, Alex," Hunter said.

"I don't plan on being one."

"Most martyrs don't," she smiled.

"I'll want to talk to some of the men standing watch, maybe even get a look at the place. When's change-of-watch?" Alex asked.

"1600," the Major told him.

"It's like an episode of _The Walking Dead,_ Sir," a soldier tells him. "Night falls, and those ... whatever they are ... march out of the castle. Anything on the streets is fair game. Folks are just as likely to end up dead in the street as prisoners - they've marched a lot of people back into Castle Adolf."

"Any intel on what they're doing with these people?" Alex asked the table of soldiers.

"No. Can't see shit through all the snow," comes the answer. "We did try getting inside, kitted out some of our people as neighbors banding together. They had radios _and_ GPS tags. Nothing. Once they crossed the bridge, signals just blipped out. We don't know if they're alive or dead."

"They're fortifying positions outside the castle, Sir," another soldier says. "They have to be. Companies march out, nobody comes back. So they're lying in other positions throughout Vegas, or there's a real nasty surprise just waiting to roll down on us. Just a question of time, really."

"All right," Alex said. "Drake, I'll want to take a look at the place in the morning, and we'll go from there."  
"You're gonna turn yourself in, aren't you?" Drake frowned.

"Do I have a choice? I said it back in the CP, I'm not going to hide behind these men and the residents of Las Vegas," Alex said.

"You can't go in there alone. They'll kill you and toss your head back over the wall."

"Hand. Tyr loses his _hand._" Alex winks. "Can we mount any serious offensive?"

"Short answer? No. We have too many civilians to shield," Drake said.

"Do we have enough to make a C4 tuxedo?" Alex said bluntly.

"Self-sacrifice is one thing, but I won't help you commit suicide."

Alex shrugged. "Just exploring my options."

"Find better options. War is a game of resources and asset denial. They want you because of something you are, something you know, or something you have," Drake said. "Make them spell it out."

The evening brought another round of MRE's and a turn through the civilian area, allowing Alex to see how Vegas residents were coping. One casino had relocated some of its videogames and set them to free play for the younger crowd, while more traditional card games were enjoying a resurgence, as were art and musical endeavors.

"Don't be fooled," Drake told him. "There's a brittle edge to all of this. It's like being on patrol in Iraq. Your nerves are wound so tight you don't even remember what it's like to relax."  
Alex remembered what it was like crawling through scrub brush and hiding behind rocks, tired enough to fall asleep standing, but only being able to pause for fitful naps.

"Yeah. Been there," Alex said.

Not that accommodations here were much of an improvement - troops were 'hot bunking,' the practice of rotating shifts sharing the same bunks, so you wouldn't be sliding between cool sheets, but already-warm (and possibly clammy) bedding.

"And here I thought the MRE's were bad," he quipped.

"Squids do this all the time," noted another guardsman.

Morning came. At least breakfast was somewhat normal, scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee - though Alex was sure the eggs were powdered mix confiscated from one of the hotels. He wondered, for a stray moment, about people like Rick and Maggie over at the Soul Food Diner, and hoped they were all right.

"Morning, Lieutenant," Corporal Jensen greeted him. "Ready for our field trip?"

"Guess so."

"I've sent word to our priestess, but it will probably be several days before I hear anything," he said. "And I don't know that she'll have any real advice. We're mortals. You're ... Aesir."

"Doesn't mean I have all the answers, Jensen. Even Odin had to trade an eye at the Well of Mimir," Alex told him. "Let's go."

The trip out was along a carefully-patrolled route warded by multiple checkpoints. Either the frost giants or the guard had levelled some of the houses in the immediate vicinity, to provide a clearer field of view.

The forward base was under lockdown, having repelled an overnight assault by Einjehar.

"You think someone told them you're here?" Jensen grinned.

"It's possible, especially if yesterday's shooter missed a check-in," Alex said.

"Hey, did you hear?" asked one guardsman. "Night shift caught a Jerry."

"How'd they pull that off?"

"Tripwire and a fire sack," was the answer. "Usually, if one of 'em goes down, his buddies just shoot him in the head. So they set up a deadfall and had guns trained. Guy goes down, and they cut down everyone else."

"He say anything?" Alex asked.

"He's actually talking about the Third Reich," said another guardsman. "Thinks we're allied troops invading the Sudetenland."

"Okay, I guess we'll get a look when we head back," Jensen said. "The Lieutenant wants to take a look at No Man's Land."

"All right, we'll have eyes on you," said a guardsman.

No Man's Land wasn't far from where the guard had set up camp - a church and adjoining elementary school, buildings easily hardened against enemy incursions, while the church's bell tower provided a ready vantage point. It was unfortunate that houses had been leveled to provide a buffer, but it was a sensible strategy for units who had faced snipers and IEDs in the Middle East.

"Do they do anything when we send people out?" Alex asked.

"You mean other than lob boulders at us?" Drake asked.

Alex stopped short on his way back to the Guard's MRAV. "Seriously?"

Drake held up his hands. "Seriously."

"What's their batting average?" Alex asked.

"Single-A Ball," Drake told him. "No worse than random mortar fire. They don't have forward observers, and catapults aren't precision instruments. We won't be stopping for combat selfies, though."

The driver was on comms with several observer posts.

"Approach is clear," he told his passengers. "Seat belts, please."

The drive out was uneventful, though Alex felt a familiar apprehension as they moved further into the open.

"The enemy has only ventured out on foot. No vehicles of any kind, no cavalry," Drake explained. "Catapults behind the walls, conventional arms for the Jerrys."

"Has Jensen told you Einjehar can be from either side?" Alex asked.

"You mean there might be Allied soldiers in their ranks? How does that work?"

"Your allegiances in life don't matter. You're loyal to whomever summoned you," Alex said.

"Summoned," Drake mused. "Can we send them back without having to fight them?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"INCOMING!" the driver warned, turning sharply. A hunk of ice smashed into the ground nearby, pelting the vehicle with frosty shrapnel. "Okay, get your recon. Got time for one pass, then we're out- aw, fuck!"

Several ranks of Einjehar were goose-stepping out from the keep and across the drawbridge.

"Get us out of here," Drake said.

"Let me out," Alex said.

"Hell, no."

"Ain't giving you a choice," Alex said, unlatching his seatbelt. "Let me out, or I'll kick the door off its hinges."

"I ain't stoppin, sport," the driver said. "You wanna jump, you jump."

"Shit. See you back at camp," he told Drake. He bailed.

"North, you crazy motherfucker!"

It never looks like this in action movies. Alex hit the dirt and rolled to a stop. He stood, dusting snow and dirt off his clothes.

The Einjehar - maybe three or four ranks deep - were still goose-stepping towards him.

"I am the Son of Tyr!" he roared. "Face me!"

They stopped. Rifles went from shoulders to ready-to-fire.

"Cowards!" Alex shouted, spreading his arms. He tossed his new Sig-Sauer onto the ground. With luck, he'd be able to recover it shortly. "Hiding behind your guns. Fight me!"

The rifles began to lower. One soldier in the front rank handed his rifle to another and strode towards him. Alex hoped his grip and healing ability would allow him to take on more opponents than anyone might think sensible.

The Einjehar charged, lowering his torso into a solid tackle, which Alex braced against, meeting the man with a hammer-blow to the back of his head. The soldier went down. A second broke ranks, raising his fists. A lightning-fast punch caught Alex on the jaw, and the soldier pushed his advantage, working tight and fast until Alex caught the man's fist in his hand and twisted it sharply. The man howled as his wrist snapped like a twig. He dropped to his knees, and Alex kicked him in the side.

The rest of the first rank moved forward, thinking to overwhelm Alex with numbers. Or, that was the theory. Alex found himself delivering punches that felled his opponents, exerting bone-breaking holds. Even a simple shove, powered by his full strength, was enough to send a man flying.

"Holy shit," came the report over the radio. "He's tearing them apart. Who is this guy?"

"Ell-tee?" asked the driver.

"That's the guy they've been looking for all this time," Drake said. "Alex North."

"You mean all this Norse god shit is real?" the driver said. "And the rumors about this guy getting shot?"

"Real."

"Fuck," the radio said. "Our guy, eight; bad guys, zero."

In one sense, it was becoming comical. The Einjehar were horribly outmatched in a fist fight, but they must have been given a do-not-kill order at some point. If anyone figured out clubbing him unconscious with a rifle butt, or sticking him a dozen times with a bayonet wouldn't cross the line, he would be toast.

Instead, they just kept coming. It dawned on Alex that their orders held them back, while his own knowledge that these weren't _living_ opponents freed him to be more brutal than he might otherwise consider fair.

And it was over. Eighteen men lay on the ground, a collection of broken bones and bloody noses. None of them were dead. A few raised their hands weakly, asking for release.

What was it Valeria had told the Einjehar who attacked during Lya's concert? _Rest, warrior._

He approached one of the fallen.

"Einjehar. Rest, warrior," he said.  
"Danke," the man whispered. His eyes closed as he breathed a sigh of relief.

As with the Einjehar at the concert, he faded from sight.

Alex knew what he had to do, even if he was in the open. These men had fought valiantly because they had no other choice. Best to release them from whatever twisted service Lyman had exacted from them.

Wait.

How could that be? How could he release _Lyman's_ flunkies?

What was it Hel had said? He had trespassed on _her_ domain, not by his physical presence, but by his actions. He'd defied death, seen the ghosts of his fallen colleagues, seen a Valkyrie ...

He'd touched power outside of his father's sphere. Purview. Whatever.

_And Tyr knew it_.

The challenge coin his father had given him bore the seal of the Judge Advocate General's office on one side ... and the crest of the Grim Reapers, the fighter squadron supporting their mission, on the other. Justice and Death.

But he was capable of doing more than just seeing ghosts, it seemed.

He continued working through the men he'd defeated, releasing each in turn. Some gave him a traditional Nazi salute. None refused his mercy.

The battlefield empty, he saw his Sig Sauer on the ground and reclaimed it, then began walking back towards the edge of the zone.

Alex passed the gate to a chant of _hooah_ from the guardsmen.

"Crazy son of a bitch," Drake smiled, slapping him on the back.

"Just like the old Batman show on TV," one guardsman said. "Wham! Pow! Zowie!"

"And you were a _JAG?_" marveled another.

"All right, I've seen as much as I'm going to see, I guess," he told Drake. "Let's get back to the main post, and make sure the bad guys see me leaving."

"So they don't mount an offensive on the post thinking you're still here? Good idea."

The captive Einjehar was shackled to a chair, with guards inside and outside of the room. He was apparently no more forthcoming with information than Alex had been.

Soleil Hunter was sitting off to one side.

"Picking up some pro bono work, Counselor?" Alex smiled.

"Just observing," Soleil answered.

"Tell me what Lyman has planned," Alex said. "Tell me, and I'll set you free."

"Sir? A word, please?" the interrogator interrupted, motioning Alex towards the door. Hunter joined them.

"Set him free? Are you nuts?" he asked a moment later.

"Oh. Sorry, we're talking about different things," Alex said. "He's a warrior, summoned from Valhalla. I can release him from that. Otherwise, he's bound to whomever is calling the shots over in the Snow Fort."

"The Major has the last say on any deal."

"Has he said anything at all?" Alex asked.

"Nothing. Worse 'n you, actually. Just sits there and glares."  
"Okay. Can I continue asking questions?"

"It's your dime, Ell-Tee," the interrogator told him.

"All right," Alex said, sitting down at the table. "Lyman. What is he planning?"

The Einjehar glared at him.

"I am the Son of Tyr," Alex told him. "I _can_ grant you release. Your place in Valhalla is not at stake, and this is not your battle. It's not even Fimbulwinter."

Still nothing.

Alex removed the soldier's helmet and set it on the table. He put his hand overtop it and squeezed. The helmet crumpled like an empty beer can. One of the MP's coughed.

"Shall we try this again?" Alex asked, gripping the prisoner's bicep. "What is Lyman planning?"

No answer.

Alex squeezed, and there was an audible crack. The Einjehar schooled his face into a snarl, clamping down on any verbal expression of pain.

"Whoa!" the interrogator said. "Hold on just a minute, Ell-Tee."

Alex placed his hand on the prisoner's shoulder.

"It's entirely up to him," Alex said. "The question stands."

"North," Soleil said, coldly. "You can't do this."

"Lyman's plans," Alex said, ignoring her. He squeezed, and there was another snapping sound. The Einjehar choked back a sob of pain, then steeled his expression once more.

"Feigling. kämpfen mich als Krieger," he said. _Coward. Fight me as a warrior.  
_  
"I just came from beating up eighteen of your pals," Alex told him. "I won't lose any sleep if you're next in line."

Alex's phone rang. "I'll be right back, _mein schatz,_" he told the prisoner. "Hello?"

"First things first, where are you?" Phoebe asked.

"Convention Center," he said. "Interrogating a captive Einjehar."

"He's not talking, is he?" Phoebe asked.

"How did you guess?" Alex said.

"They're summoned beings. They'll be loyal to the person holding their leash."

"I see your point."

"I called to bring you up to speed," she said, recounting what had happened.

"Okay. Can we get Arky's people relocated?"

"We're working on that."

"Phoebe," the Einjehar said. He must have gotten a glimpse of the smartphone's caller ID.

"Don't mess with her, pal. You'll regret it."

The Einjehar chuckled. "Your friends will let me go before they let you torture me further. I will come for you."

"So tell me what Lyman has planned."

"And you call yourself Aesir," the Einjehar sneered. "He has bound the worlds as your father bound the Fenris Wolf. Asgard will fall."

"_Nothing is too high for the daring or mortals; they storm heaven in their folly_," Alex recited. "He must have summoned a metric assload of you guys if he wants to take Asgard."

The Einjehar gave him another grim smile.

"What I don't get is if you destroy Asgard, you destroy Valhalla," Alex told him. "I don't see Lyman keeping his tools around when he no longer needs them. You and all your buddies will be discarded without a thought. No honor. No glory. Oblivion."

Silence.

"Right. Well, if you should break loose, or if we set you free, tell your fellow warriors I can grant them release. You walk away from Lyman and whatever bullshit promises he made you," Alex said. He turned to the interrogator. "He's all yours."

"Going back to your friends?" Soleil asked.

"So, who's little girl are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Soleil cooed. "Needless to say, we're not on the same side."

"So do you want to answer the question the Einjehar didn't?" Alex asked. "Why Vegas?"

"The Son of Tyr begging for answers. How sweet," Soleil laughed, and it was a cold, heartless sound. "Why not? It's a perfect example of mortal conceits. A city where they flock to beg for good fortune, or have pretensions of being gods themselves. Hitoshi surprised us with his takeover of the Westview Group, but your disappearance made up for it. A pity you came back just to watch Ragnarok unfold."

"Mankind deserves better than to be trod underfoot."

"Mankind doesn't have a vote," Soleil sneered.

"Does Chris know he's sticking his dick in crazy?" Alex asked.

"Chris is in love with me. Nothing you can say will change that," she told him.

"Same warning I gave the Einjehar, Sunny," Alex said. "Lyman doesn't give a shit about you. Once you've served your purpose, he'll push you off the roof or something."

"If I recall correctly, he doesn't have a very good track record on killing Scions," Soleil smiled. "He arranged to have your chopper shot down and managed to kill everyone _but_ you. I'll manage."

"You heal like I do, is that it?" Alex said.

"Unless you're going to pull out your gun and shoot me, you'll just have to wait and see," Soleil said.

"Tempting."

"You can't. Justice runs too deeply in your blood," she reached out and swiped a finger at his nose. It was a bit of byplay for several guardsmen passing through the hall.

"I'd quote Shakespeare, but you're not my friend, no matter how you slice it."

"Mmmm. Chris quotes that stupid shit all the time," she says. " _'If we meet again as friends, why, then we shall smile. If not, then this parting was well made.'_ Is that the one?"

"You know I'll tell the others."

"As if the angry villagers will come for me with torches and pitchforks?" Soleil laughed again. There was lambent fury in her eyes. "Let them. They will learn their god, their Christian god, was nothing but a salve to their fears of Ragnarok. The true gods will return."

"What do you plan on being? Certainly not a goddess of Justice."

"My sights are set considerably higher, Counselor. Justice only matters when you care about those beneath you," she said. "Now, I have to bring Chris up to speed on your interrogation and make sure he understands you showed your true colors when you tortured a prisoner."

Alex watched Soleil walk away. _Perhaps it's not Jason Lyman I need to worry about,_ he told himself. Soleil seemed rather unimpressed by the suggestion that she was a disposable ally, and she didn't strike him as being particularly naive.

He found Lt. Drake.

"I need to talk to Jensen. Or one of your other Asatru," he said.

"Jensen's on the line," Drake told him. "Bjornson was heading for the sack, we should be able to catch him."

The soldier could easily be an extra in a Hollywood saga. In fact, he looked somewhat out of place in BDU's. Right job, wrong era.

"Tyrsson," he said, clapping his fist to his chest in salute. "I am honored."

"I'm telling you this because you believe," Alex said. "The snow fort isn't the only threat. There are others, like me, but on the side of the Frost Giants. One is a man calling himself Jason Lyman, but another is a woman attached to the District Attorney's office. Her name is Soleil Hunter, and she's very good at bending men to her will."

"And recommending the Guard do nothing more than patrol the line," he said. "We've seen her at 'town hall' meetings. Anything else, my Lord?"

"Alex. Lieutenant, if you feel the need for a title."

"Sir."

"No, nothing else," Alex said. "I'm going over to the Westview Grand. Drake has my phone number, but I suppose you and the other Asatru should as well." He hands the soldier several business cards. "Lieutenant Drake, if someone can run me over there? I'll try to square some transport, so I'm not using you guys for taxi service."


	27. The Sleeper Must Awaken

(Evie - The View From On High)

Despite still being tired, you find yourself in one of those moments where a question or concern is tugging at the edge of your thoughts and makes going back to sleep - for the moment - near impossible.

You look out the window onto a balcony that is dusted with nearly a foot of snow, and shudder at the thought of stepping outside. And then you see the antique (or, at least, of similar design) brass telescope sitting on its tripod, as well as a pair of 7x35 binoculars lying on a low table.

You train the binoculars on the castle first, seeing nothing but classic architecture. There are faint glimmers of bluish light, fire or some kind of illumination. And there must be heat, right? Do Einjehar feel cold?

It's the telescope that shows you the kind of detail you were seeking. You can make out patrolling figures, the disparate armor indicating more Einjehar. There are several taller - perhaps eight to ten feet in height - figures with pale skin and primitive armor. White hair and blue eyes. Frost giants?

Damn. Too bad you can't hear anything.

You are about to stop your investigation when you notice one last detail, a shaft of cerulean light piercing the sky, Asgard's sky. It pulses in regular measure, but not something that can be identified as a signal or code. A beacon or link, then?

"Hrmmmm," Evie chews on her lip thoughtfully. She's not sure what to make of the beacon, but if it is coming from the castle, it can't be good. She peers at it more closely, trying to determine if the pulses are moving from the castle to Asgard or from Asgard to the castle.

After she has done that, she sits back and watches the Einjehar and giants carefully. Evie is looking for a patrol pattern, the timing of guard changes...that sort of thing. Well, that is assuming that they have to bother with such things. Do Einjehar or giants need rest or food or whatever? She doesn't know. But, she won't find out unless she watches!

Evie also keeps an eye on the castle doors, watching for anyone other than Einjehar or giants coming and going. Who else might have access to the castle?

There are regular patrol patterns upon the castle walls - no shorter than ten, no greater than eighteen minutes apart. None seem to be the taller forms of the 'frost giants.'

The drawbridge to the castle is raised. Certainly, it must have occurred to the National Guard to attempt crossing the ravine and scaling the walls, but it hasn't happened. The old Hollywood standby of coshing a few bad guys over their heads and stealing their uniforms is out, because the Einjenhar have a universally gaunt appearance.

Of course, walking up to the front door with Alex would probably work.

It is into your second cup of coffee - and hopefully, this is neither an omen or a requirement - that you feel that sensation of being everywhere at once. You don't feel yourself at risk of teleporting - perhaps that's something you haven't learned yet.

But you find yourself with a set of coordinates. You know exactly _where_the beacon is sourced, like a monitoring anklet on a high-risk parolee.

And it isn't until you rouse from your not-quite sleep - you don't feel any of the fuzziness or sense of misplaced time that come with nodding off - that you realize what the beacon is.

It's just like the key fob Odin gave you.

It's an anchor.

"Huh. Well, now..." Evie mumbles. "That's quite interesting. I wonder what would happen if we cut that anchor? Nothing good for Lyman, I'm sure."

She giggles into her coffee, just a little bit loopy from the combined lack of sleep and caffeine overload.

Evie pulls out her phone and texts Lya: _Just noticed something important. Have an idea. Will talk to you about it when I see you. Just remind me._

The detective figures that she'll need a reminder. Or, a swift punch in the shoulder to wake her up. Sleep is tugging at the edges of her consciousness with an insistence that is nearly impossible to stave off, any longer.

There's the faint sound of "Ride of the Valkyries" coming from outside the Penthouse door before it shuts off with a fumbling curse of "I'm right here dangit..."

There's a knock on the door to the beat of "Shave and a Haircut" before Lya declares "Yo...there better be some coffee left for me, Evie...we've got a lot to talk about!"

Evie glances guiltily at the empty coffee carafe. Then, she gives Lya a big, goofy grin and says, "Sorry. I've pretty much been on a drip of the stuff since I woke up."

She stands and moves over to the coffee machine. Evie fumbles with a clean filter, her hands not quite in the mood to listen to her brain, at this point. She furrows her brows as she tries to separate one out, but it seems to refuse to come loose.

"Come on...you...stupid...," Evie grumbles. She shakes her head as she keeps doggedly trying. "Anyway, I've been watching the castle. It has an anchor! A kind of...mystical...magical...anchor, of sorts. I'm guessing that it's holding the castle here. Or it's pulling Asgard to us. Or, it's...something. Anyway. I think it's what's allowing Lyman to call the storms and giants."

Lya chuckles and takes over the coffee duties as Evie fumbles with the filter. "Tell me you actually got some sleep at least, Evie."

She presses the button on the coffee machine and leans against the table as she takes out her flask for a quick sip. "Well I guess that would explain how it appeared so quickly. The dwarf said that they built the foundation and then the rest just kind of 'showed up,' right? It's gotta be a Norse thing I guess... when I look out there all I see is snow... so if you say there's an inter-dimensional anchor out there, then I believe you, Evie."

"I had an interesting experience downstairs," Lya continues. "You probably felt it too... but our good Doctor Lee is definitely more than she appears. My guess is Kwan Yin." She flops down to sit on the corner of the bed. "Really nice lady... I followed her as she checked out patients downstairs and she taught me stuff about the flow of chi and how to diagnose patients...but the_really_ interesting thing is when I met Barbara Griffin."

"Get this, Evie..." she leans forward with an excited look on her face. "She's pregnant with a scion! She was pretty shaken up and has a history with what I would guess to be an abusive boyfriend... so the last thing she wanted to tell him was that she got knocked up by a god. I mean who can blame her, right? I wanted to ask her what she remembers about the guy... but I think she's got enough on her mind right now. She's got a room here and I gave her numbers for you and me though, just in case she needs help."

She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder at the sleeping Colonel. "Anything new from Kissy-face or the rest of those guys who were in the hotel room?"

"Nope!" Evie grins and chuckles, answering Lya's question about sleep. "But, I'm going to have to, soon. My body isn't going to take 'no' for an answer much longer."

She listens to Lya's story and nods, "Yeah, I felt that she was divine but I had no idea which goddess she was. I'm not all that familiar with the Asian pantheons." Evie frowns and blinks, "I should be, though. I need to start reading up on all the gods. Just so I know stuff like this."

Evie blinks blearily, "It sounds like we both had eventful evenings, then. When I first fell asleep, I went on a little trip to the Bifrost. Talked to Odin. I guess I've got some latent powers that have to do with travel? He said that I shouldn't have been able to get there, yet, but because I was so tired, my mind wasn't anchored."

"He sent me back here and, when I woke up, I found that I just know where I am. And where other stuff is, if I can see it. Like..._exactly_...coordinate type precision."

After Lya tells her about Barbara, she nods, "I'm glad you gave her my number. I'll visit her and try to give her some reassurance that we've got her back. Knowing that she's got a female officer watching in case the abusive boyfriend shows up should help her feel a little more at ease. And, if you want to come along, maybe she'll feel a little more like talking and we can suss out who the dad is."

"Nah. Nothing else, as far as I know. I've been alternately watching the surveillance camera and the castle, so it's possible someone could've slipped out of the room without me noticing," she says. "But, I doubt they will. I mean, they know the gig's up, at this point. And Kissy-face, there, hasn't moved."

"Remind me to take you along next time we go on tour," Lya chuckles. "You'd probably be more reliable than my Tom Tom and a lot better company."

"I'd gladly give up shotgun if it meant I got to stop reading those flipping maps," Toxic replies with a yawn as she walks through the connecting door and makes a bee-line towards the coffee.

"What was that I heard about a doctor?" Klepto asks as she runs her hand through her hair and stretches. "Are we getting one to come with us next tour?"

"Sort of," Lya laughs. "I'm no doctor, but I should be able to figure out what hurts and hopefully fix it... to a point. Right now though, I'm more worried about our Sleeping Beauty. I'd certainly like to know more about his gig, wouldn't you?" Lya replies as she stands up and takes a look at the sleeping Colonel. "You've got us a great lead on _how_ they're here, Evie... but we still need to figure out _why..._ other than the usual 'trying to take over the world' crap."

She slaps her hands together and rubs them vigorously to get the blood flowing before concentrating and running her hands just above the surface of the Colonel's body to try and detect the source of the problem.

The Colonel is suffering from high cholesterol and the precursors of arthritis in his hands. Otherwise, the drug that rendered him unconscious seems to be metabolizing normally. He'll wake, somewhat disoriented and with attendant memory loss. However, you can attempt to rouse him and moderate the more deleterious effects.

"Hey Toxic, how about bringing a cup of coffee over here for our Colonel," Lya asks. "The drugs seem to be working their way out of his system, but with the way things have been progressing lately I don't think we have the luxury to wait any more. When Orithia gets done in the bathroom, tell her to bring a robe for him too. Wouldn't want him to get any ideas after the situation he was frozen in," she laughs.

Lya then moves near the head of the bed and places one hand on his forehead and another on his chest as she begins to concentrate once again...

Your touch unravels the more deleterious effects of the intoxicant. The Colonel lapses into a natural sleep, stirring slightly as he does - a marked improvement from the head-lolling-and-drooling state he was in.

The smell of fresh coffee does the rest. His eyes blink, and he rouses.

"What the -?" he asks, realizing he's not where he'd thought, and not recognizing any of the people in the room. He snatches the robe off the bed - it's a plush, Turkish towel style robe with the Westview Grand logo embroidered upon it - and dons it, no real embarrassment at his nudity.

"Who are you?" he asks.

Evie stays quiet and lets Lya talk. Considering that she's getting loopier by the minute due to sleep dep, she doesn't trust herself to give any kind of coherent explanation. As it is, she's not even certain that she fully explained what happened to herself, earlier. Ah, well...sleep will fix it. Later.

"Afternoon, Colonel, my name is Lya Bach, and these are my band mates Toxic, Klepto, Phoebe and Orithia."

"You are safe in the hotel and among friends," Phoebe reassures him gently as the others nod in greeting.

"You'll have to forgive my friend Officer Cartwright over there," Lya continues as she gestures to the yawning Evie cradling her cup of coffee, "as she's been up all day keeping watch over you while you recover from the overdose of drugs that we found in your system due to your previous encounter."

Lya pulls out her flask and takes a sip before offering it to the Colonel. "It's not a bad whiskey at all if you'd like some... might help cushion things before I get to the fun part of the story."

"Drugs? I remember a woman ..." his voice trails off. "Where's Congressman Malcolm? Hell, where's my uniform?"

He gets up and strides to the phone, punches in a phone number. "Ellison, Alpha Six Six Two Mike Zero Eight."

He pauses, then frowns. "What do you mean, deactivated? What? What's your name, airman?"

Ellison slams the phone down.

"Someone had better start explaining," he says, gruffly.

"OK... where do I start?" Lya says as she takes another sip from her flask and pours a healthy portion into the Colonel's coffee cup.

"I'm not sure what you were aware of before the shit hit the fan, so I'll try to sum this up: The Norse Gods...Loki, Thor, Heimdall, Odin, you know... like from the Marvel movie, are _real._ Not the comic book versions though... the mystical Viking warrior versions. These gods in their downtime like to come to Earth and get laid so they can have kids called Scions to help them take care of shit when they need it. Officer Evie here, she's a daughter of Heimdall." Lya gestures over to Evie who smiles and casually salutes the Colonel.

"The scion of Loki, though, calls himself Jason Lyman and he's holed himself up inside a castle that magically appeared in the middle of Las Vegas and now it looks like he's doing his best to bring about Ragnarok, the Norse version of the End of Days. Our friend Alex North is an attorney here in Las Vegas who went with the military encampments set up outside around the castle because it turns out he's also the son of Tyr, the Norse god of war and justice, and apparently a key component in Lyman's plans."

She takes another drink and begins to pace. "Meanwhile, my friend Hitoshi Ryder, who happens to own this hotel, is the son of Japanese gods... and with the help of his connections, he was able to place everyone in this hotel in stasis to keep them safe when everything went haywire. When we finally all got back to the hotel he woke everyone up... but not before Officer Evie and I found you and the Congressman in your hotel room. While he was apparently still enjoying himself, you were frozen in the middle of a drug overdose while we found one of the women helping a man who looked exactly like you take your clothes so he could try and open your safe."

Lya then flips through her phone to show the photos she took of everyone in the hotel room and shows them to the colonel. "I don't know what's in that safe... but I figured it wouldn't be good if they opened it so I changed the combination that they had copied down to use while you were out. Evie and I then made our way through that mess out there to find a doctor to save your life... because we figured you've got to be important, right? We moved you to this room so you could recover... and we assume the others are still back in their room trying to figure out why their plans just went out the window."

The Colonel takes it all in for a moment before his brows furrow. "And just who are you in all this?"

"Me? I'm with the Greeks... Daughter of Dionysus at your service," Lya grins before pouring some more whiskey into the Colonel's cup.

"And, if you're still having doubts even after seeing the pictures..." Evie stands and walks to the window. She grabs the curtains and pulls them open to reveal the now snow covered cityscape of Vegas.

"Bob Malcolm was hosting a poker game - he does that when he's in town," Ellison says. "Called herself Hattie, or something like that. I'm a faithful husband, but she gave me this come-here gesture, and the next thing, I'm following her into the bedroom."

He gestures at his robe.

"All right. You said this other fellow was planning to ... pretending to be me?" Ellison asks. "Meaning he has my uniform, my ID, my phone, my house keys? Good luck, they've deactivated my command code."

He smiles at Lya.

"Good move on the safe combination," he says. "Quick thinking."

He downs the rest of his coffee.

"I could use some more coffee, but not more of that whiskey," Ellison says. "Clothes. And then I need to find whatever disaster control center the city has up and running."

Phoebe walks up with what's left of the coffee and tops of the Colonel's mug as Lya smiles and takes another swig. "Thanks, Colonel. You sure? Good whiskey might be a commodity these days. We can call downstairs to see if they've got any clothes you can have... otherwise there's always seeing if your friends are still in there and getting your uniform back."

"Unless he's Hitoshi's size," Orithia offers as she opens up one of the closets.

"Once you get yourself situated we can escort you in the right direction, sir... but before we do that... why would these people want to impersonate you and break into your safe? It must have something to do with their plans... so if you could tell us anything that might give us a chance to get a few steps ahead of them."

"My safe has any number of important documents," Ellison says, though he's clearly not about to discuss national security issues with you. "I don't see that the fake me has any option but to go all in. Good luck getting back to Nellis in this shit, though."

"Still, I suppose we could check to see if they called it off and left my clothes."

"Kay, I get it... not like a musician like me has clearance or anything," Lya mutters. "Let's just say though... _if_ you happen to be involved in anything that could...say... help start WWIII if it fell into the wrong hands... I suggest you increase your security."

"From the description, it sounds like one of the women in the room might have some rather persuasive abilities," Klepto warns. "If she is also a Scion, then we don't want to go in there unprepared. I suggest that the Colonel remains here under guard while some of us go check it out."

"What do you say, Evie... are you awake enough to join us, or do you want to remain here with the Colonel?"

Evie chuckles and throws back the last of the bitter coffee she had been nursing, "I'll go along. If I stay still, I'm going to fall asleep and be absolutely no use, at all. If I'm standing up, I can keep going. Maybe."

She stumbles as she runs into the corner of the bed, "Or, I might just faceplant. Pffft! It's all fun and games until somebody gets a concussion."

Evie moves over to stand near Lya, "I'm ready when you are."

Evie turns to the Furies with a raised eyebrow. "Well?"

"You know the drill girls," Klepto says as she holds out her fist and the others all gather around to do the same. "One...two...three... GO!" There's a flurry of hand movements as the four women rush to pick a number and hold out their fingers.

"Damn it!" Klepto curses as she realizes she's the only one who picked an odd number. "Guess it's you and me, Colonel. I'll make some more coffee."

"Hitoshi's got access to the security cameras so you can at least keep an eye on the hallway, Klepto," Evie offers.

"You guys be careful, all right?" Klepto says to the other Amazons before turning to Lya. "And you... don't do anything stupid."

Lya looks at Klepto innocently. "Hey... it's me! You guys stay here then, and we'll see what's up." She pulls her gun from the back of her pants and quickly checks it before returning it. "The plan is to go in there and incapacitate everyone but the Senator, making sure that the women don't get a chance to talk until they are placed under strictly controlled conditions."

"There's always the old fashioned way too," Orithia suggests as she tears up pieces of tissue and wads them into her ears. "I mean it worked for Ulysses, right?"

Toxic snorts and gestures for the box of tissues.

The executive suite is somewhat more chaotic. Congressman Malcolm is dressed, though he hasn't bothered with his tie. His assistant is speaking on both her smartphone and a landline, and reviewing e-mails on her laptop.

"Do the words House Majority Whip mean anything to you?" Malcolm was berating someone over the phone. "I understand there's weird shit happening all over the country. Get a chopper out here so I can get out of this ski resort and back to DC. What? I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say _no_..."

"Who the hell are you?" he asks.

"Afternoon Congressman... my name is Lya and this is Officer Cartwright, and we're the ones who found you _in flagrante delicto_ with your assistant earlier," Lya answers with a snarky grin.

"Thankfully I don't care as much as some people I know as to what you do in your free time... though I've got to say I'm quite impressed with some of the positions you achieved. My question to you is where's the other woman who was here with Colonel Ellision? You see, he doesn't take kindly to being drugged and having people try and impersonate him so they can break into his safe, and I'm sure he'd love to know that you had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Evie remains quiet, opting to try and look vaguely intimidating instead of talking. Considering that she hasn't bathed in two days, probably still has a good amount of soot from the fire on her clothes and in her hair, and she probably has some serious red-eye going on...it might not be that hard to pull off the tough gal look.

_If only I had a five o' clock shadow!_ she thinks to herself with some amusement. _May as well go for 'thug' since there's no way I'm pulling of 'professional,' at this point._

Evie watches the congressman and his assistant carefully, as well as keeping an eye on the other doors to the room. It could be that the others are still here, somewhere. Probably not, but it's best to assume that someone is going to jump out and try to punch them in the face.

"Roger? Drugged? What the hell?" Malcolm says. "I know everyone who was at the table! If there's some kind of espionage crap going on, someone I know is involved in it."

He glances at his assistant.

"Director Clancy at Langley?" she mouths.

Malcolm nods. He finally gets around to adjusting his tie.

"Don't run off. I may be able to use you," he says. "You're already here and you're already aware of some of the particulars. So if you were willing to look into this matter further, it saves me trying to round up my own people."

"Oh we're definitely willing to look into the matter, Congressman," Lya replies. "Considering there are people out there trying to bring out the Norse version of the End of Days by drugging and impersonating Colonel Ellison, I think it might be _very_ important to find out just what they're after."

Lya brings out her phone to flip to the picture of the woman helping the Colonel's doppelganger. "You said that you knew everyone at the table... do you recognize this woman? Was she still here when you woke up?"

Orithia nudges Lya in the hip to remind her of their other goal. "Oh yeah... you haven't seen the Colonel's clothes around here have you?"

"Her? Her name is ... Hattie, something like that. Or maybe they were calling her Hottie. I'm pretty sure she came in with Doug Mason. He's on the board of directors here at the Westview," Malcolm says. "We didn't even know we'd been frozen, or whatever you say happened. No one else was here. I figured Roger had gotten a bit of nookie and gone back to Nellis."

He points across the main room. "If the girl drugged him, it'd probably have been in the bedroom. If they didn't take his clothes, they'd be there."

"Colonel Ellison is likely to be nominated to the JCS, so having some kind of dirt on him, or replacing him would be useful, but that's Hollywood, not the real world."

"I think you'll find 'the real world' has changed quite a bit while you were frozen," Evie says. She leaves Lya to continue talking to the politician and goes back to the door of the bedroom where they found the colonel. She cautiously opens it, just in case there are any surprises waiting inside.

"Hitoshi should know of this," Phoebe says.

"Agreed... if someone at the Westview is involved he'll want to know," Lya replies. "Phoebe, why don't you see if you can reach him on his cell since he hasn't come back yet."

Lya sits on the corner of the bed and gestures for the Congressman to sit down. "I hate to tell you Congressman, but your concept of the 'real world' might need a few adjustments by the time I'm finished telling you what happened. The Norse Gods...Loki, Thor, Heimdall, Odin, you know... like from the Marvel movie, are real..."

Phoebe takes out her cell phone and begins to dial Hitoshi's number...

Malcolm doesn't scoff. "Young lady, all religions are real enough to their believers. And, despite what many of my colleagues think, politics doesn't mix well with religion. I try to keep my religious beliefs in church where they belong."

"That means I'm the wrong man to take that kind of message back to Washington, even as House Majority Whip, there are too many Christians on the floor to do anything but argue. It's kind of why I like my poker games. They're an opportunity to hash out issues without having to pose for the cameras."

"But someone drugging a senior staff officer, perhaps to steal access or information? That's a real threat I can do something about."

"I wish it was just a matter of belief, Congressman. By the time this is all over I think _everyone_ is going to be forced to re-evaluate what they believe in...whether they want to or not," Lya sighs.

"In the meantime though, I'm with you on taking care of the things I know I can handle. You are more than welcome to stay here at the Westview, or if you don't mind bundling up there are military encampments along the Strip that will be willing to help you." Lya pulls out her card and hands it to his aide. "Please give me a call if you find out anything new, and Officer Evie and I will continue our investigation."

"I expect I'll hear that a chopper is, in fact, available and will be dispatched," Malcolm smiles. "If Colonel Ellison is able to travel, he can join me."

"Bingo," Orithia says. "One uniform, tossed aside as if our friends were in a hurry to get out of here."

"Excellent. When Officer Evie is done, we'll head back to the room and give the Colonel his uniform, as well as your offer of transportation, Congressman."

"Chopper is fifteen minutes out," Malcolm's assistant tells him. "They won't be able to hold for very long."

"All right," Malcolm said. "Young lady, if you'd be so kind as to get the Colonel's clothes to him?"

The Congressman seems to be in full campaign mode. You're surprised he isn't handing out left-over 'Re-Elect Malcolm!' buttons.

He pours himself two fingers of scotch and bolts it down.

"Colonel?" Orithia asks, holding up the uniform she slapped onto a hangar from the hall closet upstairs.

"My uniform! Thank you," he says. He walks briskly into the walk-in closet and master bath. In remarkably short time, he is dressed and squared away, even availing himself of Hitoshi's shaving kit to make himself more presentable.

"Wallet, cell phone, keys ..." he mumbles to himself. "Good to go. Detective Cartwright, Miss Bach, if you find out anything more, please give me a call." He hands both of you a business card. "I'm going to catch up with Bob Malcolm."

"If I could just have a moment of your time, Colonel... I promise I will be brief," Lya pleads as she places a hand on the Colonel's arm. "In my process to find a doctor to save your life I came across a community of needy people out there who could really use our help... but many of them are destitute or street kids and they don't want to get tied up the potentially drawn-out military process going on out there. Is there any way you could give me a letter providing them free passage through the checkpoint so we can bring them into the hotel for shelter? You have my word that I will account for their actions and help you with your investigation in any way that I can."

"Street kids," Ellison says. And, for a moment, he is somewhere else, his eyes distant. He returns to the present moment and looks out the window, where there is nothing but storm-grey skies and whirling snow.

He moves to Hitoshi's desk and writes a quick note, stapling another business card to it. _On my authority, please allow safe passage of Las Vegas residents to the Westview Grand,_ is all the note says.

"Thank you, Colonel... this will mean so much to the people stuck out there," Lya replies with a sniff and a quick wipe of an eye before taking the note and handing the Colonel a business card of her own. "When all is said and done, I owe you a drink."

Ellison coughs. "All the same, Miss Bach, I think it will be some time before I accept another drink from a pretty girl."

Evie smiles happily, glad that they have what they needed - safety for all the people at Sanctuary, if they wish it.

She sits down on the edge of the bed and flops back onto the mattress. She manages to make it about two deep breaths before her eyes close and she is snoring soundly, her legs still draped off the bed's edge.

"No offense taken, sir. Good luck out there, and we'll let you know if we find anything," Lya replies with a laugh.

After the Colonel leaves Lya turns to see Evie passed out on the bed and smiles as Orithia gently lifts Evie's legs and positions her fully onto the bed so she can get some sleep.

"She's quite a trooper," Orithia whispers, "but we all need our rest sometime."

Phoebe walks back into the room with a glance at Evie while Lya gives her a questioning look. "Hitoshi is well and will be returning soon," Phoebe replies quietly.

"Perfect," says Lya as she pulls out her phone to call Arky and tell him the good news. "When Hitoshi gets back we should be able to coordinate with Arky to get some of his refugees relocated then."

"And after you talk to Arky it's your turn to get some sleep," Klepto insists with crossed arms.

"Isn't that what coffee is for?" Lya jokes.

"The bags under your eyes are going to be darker than your hair if you don't get some sleep," Klepto growls.

"Oh you bitch," Lya chuckles. "Okay...okay... let me just make this phone call and then I'll take a nap... I swear."

The phone rings, and someone picks up, but you can only hear background noise for a moment. It sounds like someone offering grace before a meal - Fr. Daniel, perhaps?

"Hey, Lya," Arky says after the prayer is concluded. "Didn't want to interrupt, but I didn't want to miss your call."

You relate the news about Colonel Ellison's safe passage.

"That's great!" he says. "Evening meal, a quick assembly to explain, give everyone some time to rest and prepare ... I think we can have everyone packed up and ready to go by mid-morning. The ... winter ... has forced people to re-evaluate what's important, so there aren't a lot of _things_ that need to be packed. We'll strip the shelves for what we can, of course."

Lya stifles a yawn before answering. "Arky, my man... I've got some great news! Turns out Colonel Ellison was quite grateful for everyone saving his life and he was kind enough to give me a signed writ of passage for everyone there who wants to relocate here at the Westview. I wouldn't be surprised if the good Colonel had some experience on the street when he was a kid, honestly."

She stops and rubs her eyes for a moment. "So yeah... Hitoshi's on his way back and Klepto's going to kill me if I don't get some sleep... but we should coordinate a caravan once everyone's ready, dude."

"Sounds like a plan," he says. There's that upbeat note - cheerfulness, self-confidence, whatever - in his voice that radiates a sense of well-being. "Get some rest, cousin."

"I don't think I'm going to have a choice in the matter. I am looking forward to seeing you guys soon," Lya chuckles.

With that Lya hangs up the phone and stretches with an audible POP. "All right guys... I'm going to catch a few Zzzs, but wake me up if anything important happens."

"Wouldn't save the world without you, hon... get some rest," Klepto replies as she gets comfortable in a chair and whips out her drumsticks to practice while she watches over the sleeping Scions.


	28. Maxwell's Silver Hammer

A little later Hitoshi and Heishi pull into the garage of the Westview. Hitoshi looks around. "Hmm.. any reason the Shadow Field is gone?" He asks as they walk inside the building proper.

Heishi frowns. "Perhaps without realizing it, you released Kimura-san from his obligation. He lives because of your decision, but the Westview is not shielded from the outside world. And now that you have returned from _Yomi,_the underworld, the barrier is unnecessary."

"Huh. Interesting. Okay, well much as I liked the shield, I do think you and the members of the hand are far useful to me alive." Hitoshi says clapping Heishi on the shoulder.

"Anyways, let's get inside and see what the others are doing."

The casino is starting to buzz with activity, though it's still short of 'normal.' The gaming floor is operating at the slower, mid-day level. Despite seeking solace in games and other distractions, many of the patrons have an edgy, unsettled look about them. The notion of the end of the world, in anyone's book, let alone that of ancient Norse gods, is unnerving.

You find your mother on the balcony overlooking the concourse/game floor. It is an entirely ... human moment, as she is availing herself of some coffee and a sandwich.

"There will be daily meetings with hospitality and security until we find an operational balance," she said. "I'll spare you the usual speech about you-should-attend. Oh, and Doug Maxwell is wandering about somewhere. I hadn't realized he was on the premises."

"Actually I plan to attend a few of the meeting when I'm not out trying to save the world, mother. Hitoshi replies right before hearing about Mason. He raises an eyebrow. "Neither did I, This bears investigating."

He turns to Heishi. "Heishi, have someone find Doug Maxwell and kindly escort him to my office. We need to have a chat."

He turns back to his mother. "Mother, I think you should be there. By the way, where are the others?"

"Hai, Ryder-san," Heishi says. He bows, and absents himself. You aren't sure if he will be speaking to security, or if he will be tracking Maxwell down in person.

"I think they've adjourned to your penthouse, though it's hard to tell," Karen says. "Lya was flitting about here and there. I think she was the one who brought a paramedic and doctor here." Her serious expression gives way to a wistful smile. "Saving the world. I seem to recall lecturing a young man on what I saw as futile efforts to do so," she says. "Well. I won't tell you your business, but I will tell you to get some rest so you can do it justice."

You're a bit thrown by the kinder, gentler version of your mother, but then you realize she's entirely in her element - efficient operation in the midst of the world going to hell. You wonder if that's what attracted Hachiman to the young Karen Ryder, or if he was just sowing his seed.

Hitoshi smiles a rare smile. "Yea, but did you ever think your kid would end up being the Son of a God. I know Dad acted like it, but I had no clue he really was one until..." He breaks off, looking out across the casino.

"Anyways, it doesn't matter. What matters is I have the power to effect real changes and protect people." He leans on his cane and smiles wistfully.

"You are very much like him," Karen tells you. "I always thought he had too many irons in the fire, as well. I could never see the threads that bound everything together. I am used to order and structure in life; relying on that kept me from being another single mother who spent her life waiting tables or worse."

Hitoshi puts an arm around his mother and hugs her. "You have done just fine mother, and while you might have thought I wasn't listening, I took to heart a lot of things you told me. I have appreciated everything you have done."

He lets her go and waves his arms about. "I may own this, mother, but its actually due to you, that I do."

He gives her a quick peck on the cheek. "No, I have to go deal with Maxwell . You may join me if you wish, but I warn you that things might go south at some point. I will however do what I must to keep everyone safe."

He starts walking towards the elevators to head up to his office.

**Ding**

The express elevator chimes upon arrival. While it has access to all floors of the resort, it is on a separate circuit, arriving only when called via an executive's keycard. You enter and press the button for your office.

You are somewhat surprised, however, when the elevator slows and stops at one of the guest floors.

"No. We didn't get it, damn it. And, no, Jason, I don't know what caused it. You can rule out Alex North, yes?" Doug Maxwell is saying as he enters the elevator and almost bumps into you. "Oh, shit."

He begins to back up, but the executive elevator isn't set for the same kind of delay as general access cars, and the doors are already closing ...

Hitoshi's hand shoots out, catching the door and causing it to withdraw into the fram as is sensed an object preventing closure. He steps out into the hallway and cracks his neck before straightening his suit.

"Is that Jason Lymann on the other end of that phone? GIVE." He directs his full force of will at Douglas Maxwell. The man drops the phone into Hitoshi's hand.

"Hey there Lymann, you know who this is. Just want you to know that I plan on doing everything I can to fuck up your shit. Eventually I WILL kill you even if I die as well. Okay fucktard, you have a nice day. Your minion and I are going to have a small chat."

He turns the phone off and smashes it against the wall. "Now, Douglas, you and I are going to talk." He growls, his eyes flashing.

"Sure. What would you like to talk about?" Maxwell says, raising his hand and extending a forefinger as if lecturing. "_And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth."_

A Bible-quoting Scion isn't quite what you had expected. The lecturing finger lancing out towards you, however, was entirely predictable. Maxwell might as well be moving in slow motion. You're not sure what he intended, but you're sure it wasn't pleasant.

But as you sidestep the touch, he presses forward instead of retreating, moving into the hall to confront you. The executive elevator's doors close.

Maxwell's reasoning becomes clear, however, when someone from housekeeping comes into the hall, pushing a cart laden with blankets and pillows for the people downstairs.

"_Disculpe, Seniorita_," he says, whipping the woman around and pinning her in front of him like a human shield. He brings his fingertip near her forehead.

"Call the elevator, Hitoshi," he says. "Or I assure you, she will die a particularly painful death."

Hitoshi frowns, anger in his eyes as he recognized the cleaning lady. Upon ascending to the position of CEO, he had made it his business to keep a database of pictures of the faces of every employee so he could match names to faces, and so, when he speaks, his voice is low. "Really Maxwell?" He moves. In two seconds he covers the 7 yards, his left hand closing around Maxwell's hand that pointing at the woman's forehead. With a snap, he breaks Maxwell's wrist as he pulls the woman out of the man's grasp. "Run Miriam!"

The pain his him as whatever power Maxwell had travels into him. He fights through it even though it feels like every nerve in his hand is on fire.

"You threaten my Employees?!" His Growl gets louder, and he used the anger to cover up the pain. He punches the man in the Stomach, and steps back.

"What are Lymann's plans, and how do you fit into them? Tell me, and I will let you live. Don't tell me and..." He unsheathes Honjo Masamune, and the searing pain in his left hand causes him to drop the scabbard as his hand spasms.

"Fucking asshole"

"Aaaaaaaah!" exclaims Maxwell as you snap his wrist.

He delivers a glancing blow as a result, but it still hurts. The searing pain would have reduced lesser men to gibbering tears. The skin on your hand is inflamed and red, as if you'd been stung by fire ants.  
You have a moment to marvel at your healing ability, which you've never seen tested - at least, not to the extent that Alex has played catch-the-bullet. The weals surge, then subside, leaving only the residual pain and spasming.

Your return punch drops Maxwell to his knees, and he flails somewhat, having only one hand to catch himself with.

"Armand saw me empowered when my father - my divine father - ignored me," Maxwell hissed. "Are you sure you're not Aesir? They're a bloodthirsty lot. Everyone dies. Me, I'd be happy with humans knowing their place."

"And it should be obvious what he's doing. He can't amass an army in Asgard, or Niflheim - he did it under Heimdall's very nose, by holding the ritual under Alex North's house. I was going to masquerade as Colonel Ellison to borrow a tactical nuke or two from Nellis. Let Odin fend off _that._"

He laughs. He grimaces as he sets his wrist, and runs his other hand over it.

"There. All fixed," he says. "Now, you have your answer. You can let me go, or, if you're going to kill me, better do a good job. I'll heal anything less than a mortal wound. And then I'll pay a visit to mommy. Or maybe turn Sokatsu into a diseased lump just to hear him beg for mercy."

Hitoshi's eyes narrow, and his kick catches the man across the jaw, snapping his neck to the side and making him stagger. He kicks the man again in the head then rams his knee into the man's face, and watches as Maxwell crumbles to the floor unconscious.

Pulling out his phone he dials a number. "Heishi, I need you to meet me outside my office."

He says as he pushes the elevator button and drags the unconscious form of Douglas Maxwell into the elevator.

Maxwell wakes up once, but a quick slam of his head into the gleaming stainless steel of the elevator puts him out again, as well as leaving a sizable dent in the metal.

The elevator dings as it reaches the top floor and Hitoshi nods to Heishi. The man helps him drag Maxwell to the balcony. On the way, Hitoshi grabs a bottle of water off a side table.

Even with two men handling the task, dragging an unconscious victim down the hall is not an easy task. At the very least not a graceful one.

As you pass Mika's office, she looks up. She appears to be less distraught than earlier, and comes to the door of her office.

"Is that ... Doug Maxwell?" she asks.

"Hai," says Heishi. "He has betrayed Ryder-sama. He must be made an example of."

"_Uragiri_?" she asks, and Heishi nods.

"Then I do not see that you have many options," she says. "I do have something to speak to you about, Hitoshi, but it can wait."

Hitoshi nods at Mika. "I will be with you in a moment Mika..." He pauses. "I am sorry that you had to be party to this. I promise I will explain in a bit."

With those words said, he and Heishi finish dragging Maxwell out on the balcony, and Hitoshi dumps the bottle over the man's head and slaps him awake.

"Maxwell, I really did like you. I liked you better than that asshole Mason. Do one list good deed before you die, and tell me who else on the board was like me and you. Tell me who was working for Lymann, and I give you my word that your death will be quick and painless. I wish I could trust you to come to our side, but I know I can't so letting you live is not an option. Come on, do the right thing."

"If you don't know, you haven't been paying attention," Maxwell smiles. "I rather thought it would be Armand who stabbed me in the back, though."

He shivers. It's cold, and the splash of water is turning to frosty rime on his face.

"You know there's a chance I'll survive the fall," he tells you. "Gregory really is an asshole, by the way. You should consider tossing _him_ over the railing. I have to hand it to you, I didn't see your power play coming."

His knees begin to knock.

"Let's get this over with," he says. "Fucking Aesir had to have their End-of-Days be cold, didn't they."

"Stand him up Heishi." Hitoshi says coldly.

"Maxwell, I'm not the kind of coward to stab you in the back, and if Mason turns out to be more than just a normal human asshole executive, he will be up here at some point too. I won't let anyone harm may family, or my friends." He says as Heishi stands the man up.

Hitoshi places a hand on Maxwells shoulder and with one violent thrust, stabs the man through the stomach. He feels the blade slide through flesh. Feeling the blade stop at the man's spine he shoves forward again feeling the blade sever the spinal cord. Maxwell starts to droop,a nd Hitoshi keeps his hold on his, leaning in to whisper in the man's ear.

"Don't worry Mawell, Lymann will soon join you, and at some point, so will I." He says softly as the man's eyes go wide.

Slowly Douglas Maxwell slide off the blade on Honjo Masamune falls backwards off the balcony as Hitoshi lets go of his jacket and watches him fall.

Maxwell's body hits a legs on one of the lower levels and spins, spraying blood into the air before smashing into the snow covered concrete below.

"Heishi, go check on him. If he somehow survived, put him out of his misery. I'm not a complete asshole." He says stepping back inside.

Heishi looks down at the spreading blossom of red upon the white ground.

"I will take care of the ... loose ends," he says, excusing himself.

You return to your office, and let Mika know you are available. She arrives shortly, and says nothing about the fate of Douglas Maxwell.

"I apologize for being somewhat distraught earlier," she says. "I was concerned about my family, even if I am not on good terms with my father. I was able to reach my mother and speak to her through a mutual friend."

"However, if Douglas Maxwell was involved in this affair of the gods, his presence on the board of the Westview Group cannot be coincidence. Either they were hoping to strike at you through Karen, or they were exploiting the Westview Group's resources to an unknown end."

Hitoshi sits in his chair quietly for a moment before speaking. "No need to apologize to me Mika, family is important."

He reaches into his desk and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. His hands shakes as he pours an extremely generous amount into both and slides one over to her.

"No, not at first. I.. I think they were planning to acquire the Westview for Lymann though I am not sure what for. My acquisition of it interrupted their plans somehow." His hands shake more as his picks up his glass and guzzles it down, not caring about the burn. He lets the glass drop to the floor as the events of what he just did to Maxwell catch up to him, and tears pour down his face as he drops his head to his arms.

Mika retrieves the glass and sets it in the sink of the small wet bar. She returns with a clean glass and quietly sets it next to the bottle of scotch. Then, understanding you need to be alone with your thoughts, she absents herself from your office.

Hitoshi composes himself a few moments later and puts the glass away in the desk, dumping the other one that Mika did not drink, down the drain. He walks over to her office and knocks on the door.

She glances up from her computer and sees you through the glass partition, nodding to show that you should come in.

Hitoshi steps inside and Bows deeply. "Domo Arigato. I had a momentary laps in composure, and a moment of weakness. You should not have had to see that Mika. I apologize. I owe you much."

With those words said, he turns to leave. "There is a housekeeper Named Mirriam. Find her please and make sure she is okay. Maxwell threatened her and I was forced to stop him, and I told her to run. I need to meet with the others to figure out what to do next."

"Of course," Mika says. "Do not apologize, Hitoshi. This may be an affair of gods, but they are depending on their children to make the difference. Children who come from the human world, who _feel_ as well as act. Remembering who you are will ensure who you _become_ is someone of merit."

Hitoshi leans against the door frame. "I didn't ask for this at all. All I wanted to do was live my life, but it seems that destiny has other plans for me, and of course Lya, Evie, and Alex."

He sighs. "So, have you made your decision? Should I warm up the Corporate Jet and send you home, or are you still willing to me my right hand at the Casino during all this? I need someone to help me keep my sanity during all this, and the others are going to be too busy being in all of it to do so."

"Now that I've learned my family is safe, I am free to remain here," she tells you. "Though I predict we may be hearing from my father in one form or another, as the 'end of the world' will encourage aggression on many fronts as people and governments look for an advantage."

Hitoshi nods. "I won't Lie to you Mika, I am basically the head of the Invisible hand as of right now though there has not been any ceremony for transfer of power. The Shsadowfield was powered by Kimura was powering it through his own life force, and it was killing him. I ordered him to stop and it appears he did so because we don't have the field anymore. Now all we have is Myself and the Invisible Hand to guard everyone. I prefer that to needless deaths of people who can do so much more."

He pauses and looks at her. "Your father may attack us. If he does, well I'll do what I must to protect everyone here, including you. I hope you understand."

"My father will exploit any perceived weakness. If you have become the Oyabun of the Invisible Hand, then he will find a way to test you," Mika says. "Do not think him less of a threat because he is in Japan, and we are here."

Hitoshi nods. "we shall deal with that when it happens then. For now, the main enemy is Jason Lymann and those that side with him."

He scratches his chin.

"Can you tell me who on the board Doug Maxwell hung out with the most? They may need to be watched."

"I only met the Board members the afternoon you revealed yourself as the new majority shareholder," Mika says. "While Gregory Mason will doubtless remain a concern, he will be motivated by his dislike of you. As I pointed out after our trip to Japan, Selene Chase may be more than she seems, as she is fluent in Japanese despite claiming otherwise. If Pacific Rim searched our rooms, you should inquire as to what they found."

"Let me check on Miriam, and then we can discuss any potential problems with the board," she says.


	29. Hitoshi Stands Alone

"Yes, Heishi, I require a full set of winter clothing suitable for a recon to the fortress. I also require a Wakazashi and some throwing knives or stars. Do not notify anyone of this, just meet me in the garage."

With that said, Hitoshi finishes toweling off and quickly grabs a pen and paper and begins to write.

"Lya, I am sorry for doing this, but this has to end. You have been my friend for a long time, and in my own way, I have grown to love you as a brother loves a sister. You are the light of the people, the one they need to show them the way.

I have chosen a darker path, one that you must not go down. I hope you can understand what I am saying; I know the Furies can protect you from everything... except yourself. I know you care so much for the people that you watch over, just as I care for you, that is why I must do this, so that you do not dim the light which shines so brightly.

"You have seen me at my worst over many years, what you do not know, what I have not told you, are the events of Japan. All you know is how I was when I came back, and that I was like you. I didn't want you to ever see my pain, but I guess you must know. Everything I said during the torture of that gang member months ago, was true. I was called one day out of the blue by an old childhood friend named Akane, a lovely girl with a heart almost as bright as yours. She needed help, The Japanese Yakuza held her in a sex slave ring. I still don't know how she escaped but she did and turned to the only friend she ever had. You know me, I saved you from that gang, and I could do no less for her. It was during my attempt to get her out of the country that we were found, and the Yakuza put the marks on my back that you have seen those rare few times. Each mark carved with a razor sharp tanto is a reminder of my failure then. I started down this dark path the moment they killed her. Fifty men died that day on the blade of Honjo Masamune. I felt each life, I saw the light dim in each pair of eyes, and it's not something you forget. Some ran scared and I chased them down killing them from behind. Others knew what was coming and stood there with quiet acceptance. I struck them down all the same. I killed a man today, Douglas Maxwell, and other than a few moments remorse and a few years, I felt less emotion for him than I did for those fifty men that died so long ago. Orders have been left in a sealed envelope in the safe in my office. The Code is 16528917. The papers will, in the event of my death, Transfer possession of the Casino to you under the conditions that my mother be kept on as head manager to run the place. Speaking of, I have told her to let Arky's people in when they get here and give them proper accommodations. You and the Furies have the penthouse suite next to mine. I will watch over you from beyond. I was born for one reason, I see that now. I am a relic of an age long past, you and I both know this. To fight our monster, I have to give in and become an even worse monster... Lymann will die, I can assure you… even if it kills me as well.

Love

Hitoshi Ryder"

Having finished writing the note, he folds it and leaves it on the desk in the room before picking up his cellphone and calling his mother. His voice is somber.

"Mom, I have something I must do, but I wanted you to know that Lya will be bringing in a bunch of people and a man named Arkay. They are allowed in. make them as comfortable as possible when they arrive. Lya and the furies get the Penthouse next to mine, but don't put anyone else in mine please. I'll be back when I'm done... I love you Mom."

With those words said, he ends the call, sets the cellphone on the desk next to the letter, shrugs into a white fluffy bath robe for some warmth, and leaps off the Balcony with Honjo Masamune in hand. He falls silently to hit the snow and the pavement beyond. After a moment he stands and brushing himself off, shivers as he makes his way to the garage.

Heishi is waiting for you in the garage.

He bows, presenting you with a wakizashi.

"The katana is available if you do not wish to use your family sword for a less-than-honorable endeavor," he says. "We have shuriken, and handguns with spare ammunition. The rest of what you requested will require a short trip to one of our safehouses."

"It is my duty to accompany you," he adds. "However, you should know that I exist solely as an extension of Kimura-san's will, and it is why the rest of the entourage is no longer here. This limits my own abilities; if greviously wounded, for example, I would not be able to heal without drawing upon Kimura-san. As you saw at the compound, he is at the limits of his strength.

"When you are invested as Oyabun, I will fade, and shadows of your own making will take my place."

Hitoshi pauses at the man's words. "And should I wish you to remain?" He asks softly as he takes the wakizashi with a small bow.

"I am honored by the request, but it would not be possible," Heishi tells you. "Stepping down as Oyabun ends the terms under which I serve. The shadows bound to your service will be no less capable or loyal, but they will be crafted from the shadows that you cast."

Mika knocks on the door and waits patiently. After a moment, she uses her executive keycard and unlocks the door, entering the living space.

Hitoshi is nowhere to be seen.

The door to the bedroom is open, but there is no sound of running water or of someone attending to their daily ablutions.

"Hitoshi?" she asks again, just in case he's enjoying a moment's respite in the toilet. No answer.

The shower is damp, the glass still fogged over. There are some lines drawn in the condensation, but nothing that Mika recognizes: neither Kanji nor English words.

A damp washcloth hangs from a counter bar. There is no scent of shaving cream or cologne, though water pooling under a razor shows that Hitoshi did shave. The toothbrush is damp, but again, there is no scent of toothpaste or mouthwash in evidence.

It is not the kind of behavior one expects from a man wracked with remorse about killing and seeking a symbolic cleansing. It _is_ common to men about to engage in violence - no scent to alert those one encounters or engages.

"What are you doing, Hitoshi?" she asks herself. She returns to the bedroom and examines the closets and drawers, which aren't much help - there is nothing here except what Hitoshi brought from the other room, and that was casual wear: slacks, shirt, and comfortable shoes.

There is nothing to show that he was forced to leave or taken unawares. No sign of a struggle or something knocked askew as a subtle clue.

There… two envelopes on the desk, written upon Westview stationery. One is address to Lya Bach, the other to Karen Ryder. The envelopes are unsealed; Mika carefully extracts each letter in turn to read them ...

Hitoshi nods. "Well thank you ahead of time for what service you have provided me then. Look, all I am asking for is the equipment I need for this I guess you would call mission. Anything beyond that is your choice. If you wish to follow, great, if not, it's all cool."

He shivers. "Speaking of cool, I'm downright freezing. Where is this safe house you speak of?"

"We will be there shortly," Heishi says. "I will turn up the heat in the vehicle. I sometimes forget it is a concern to mortals."

You stop at a small storefront with its own garage, noting that the driveway has recently been cleared and providing access. Heishi exits the vehicle briefly to unlock the roll-up door.

The interior of the storefront seems to be a small workshop. There are basic tools for both mechanical and electrical work. Harmless at first inspection, but you realize it would be perfect for a Ninja.

There is an adjacent office that tells you precisely nothing. It is a bland, commercial space. An office computer, phone books, brochures for what you imagine to be a nonexistent service. Enough clutter to make the space seem used.

Heishi works a hidden latch, and part of an office bookcase slides away. Within the revealed space is a small arsenal: handguns, submachine guns, even an RPG. Plus the more traditional tools of the ninja, swords, shuriken/shaken, a weighted chain.

"Help yourself," he says to you. "Suitable clothing is upstairs."

The upstairs is basically a small apartment, with kitchenette, full bath, and two futons. A closet holds unremarkable clothes, but also an assortment of more durable and functional wear.

"If there is something you require, but do not see, please ask."

Hitoshi slips into Some white clothing, layering up so as to stay warm against the chill that pervades Vegas. Then he pockets 10 shuriken, 5 throwing knives, a back holster made for over the shoulder draw for Honjo masamune, along with a white sash to wrap it in. He pauses.

"Caltrops... Do we have any?"

"Hai," says Heishi, pointing to a drawer.

Hitoshi opens the drawer, taking out 20 of the small but dangerous spikes.

"These will do nicely." then he pauses, looking at the RPG. "I don't know how to use that, but I wish I did." He shrugs. "Oh well. I'll do without." He picks up a grappling hook and rope and stuffs them into a small white backpack.

He turns to Heishi. "Well my friend, it's time. Anything else you can recommend for equipment?"

"A small medical kit, bandages, disinfectant, tape and forceps if you have to remove a bullet," Heishi tells you. "Also a needle, scalpel, and thread for sutures if you are fortunate enough to have the time for more extensive repair. I would add a morphine ampule, but you will need your wits about you."

* * *

"Ms. Ryder?" Mika asked.

"Mika. Why so formal?" Karen smiled.

Mika held out the envelope.

_Mom:_

_I have something I must do, but I wanted you to know that Lya will be bringing in a bunch of people and a man named Arky. They are allowed in. make them as comfortable as possible when they arrive. Lya and the furies get the Penthouse next to mine, but don't put anyone else in mine please. I'll be back when I'm done... I love you Mom_.

"I see. More of this 'Scion' business?" Karen says.

"I believe so. He did not confide in me," Mika says. "If you wish, we can find James, and see if Toshiro Kimura's assistant is available to discuss long-term plans should Hitoshi's absence be prolonged."

"We will address that when the time comes," Karen says. "My son is often headstrong, but he has shown he can play the game, as he did with buying out John Jennings. Thank you, Mika."

Mika bows and takes her leave.

Karen's fingers work nimbly for a moment, transforming the square of stationery into an origami flower, the writing giving the illusion of dark-veined petals and stamen.

"I love you, too," she whispers. "We still have much to do."

With a wave of her fingers, the origami flower disappears as if consumed by sleight of hand ...

* * *

Hitoshi nods and rather than argue, he grabs the suggested items. "I doubt I will need them, but who knows."

He take s few moments to balance the bag out and secure everything so it makes no noise.

Turning, he holds out his hand towards Heishi. "Well it's been good knowing you Heishi Maybe one day we will meet again."

"I will drive you to the fortress," he says. "It is not that I cannot accompany you, it is that I am bound to Kimura-san. In his weakened state, my destruction would almost certainly mean his death. I believe that is why the rest of my colleagues have disappeared."

Although Vegas is often described as a city where you can't tell the night from the sunrise, the glow of the Strip is dimmed by the clouds of Fimbulwinter. As you near the 'snow fort,' as Alex jokingly called it, you begin to discern a different glow. The fortress is being bathed in bright arc lights, and the National Guard has established a hard line.

The drawbridge to the fortress is lowered, and a column of grim-faced Einjehar is marching out to form a human wall. They all bear dated, but entirely serviceable weapons: World War II-era machine guns and the like. Still, among their number are men in American uniforms, toting M16s and M60s. Any exchange of fire will be vicious and deadly, but every Einjehar on the line is one less you have to worry about, though you're fairly certain taking over Vegas isn't their primary objective.

You point towards a spot outside of the immediate combat zone, where buildings still stand, unmolested, though Lya's account of roving survivalist gangs suggests an option.

"Heishi. I understand you cannot follow except at great risk to Kimura-san," you say. "Can you wait here, with the vehicle?"

"Hai, Ryder-sama."

You raise your hood and draw a breath mask across your face, turning you into a virtual ghost. You are able to make your way closer to the line without any of the allied troops being the wiser. You estimate several hundred Einjehar have taken up position, with more marching across the drawbridge ... and, yet, that is a 'drop in the bucket' as far as their total numbers are concerned.

You are in the shadow of a corner that was once someone's home, another innocent caught in the battle between good and evil. There is no real route into the castle; even though you can see at least two places from which you could begin your assault - a shadowed alcove just within the portcullis, and another finger of shadow upon the walls - you can't reach them on foot without crossing open ground or risking a climb up the walls ... unless ...

"Fuckin' lot of those bastards, tonight" one Guard corporal noted. "They're up to something."

"Good. They can play dress-up all they want. This ain't some Civil War re-enactment," said his partner. "I hear Fremont is moving some of the Brads up from the Strip."

"About fucking time."

"I imagine that'd mess up even that North guy," said the partner.

"Not half as much as I'll mess you up if you don't do exactly what I tell you," a voice whispered. "Uh-uh, don't turn around."

"Ein, zwei, drei, fuck off, Jerry," the partner spat. "Give me one reason I shouldn't shoot you and send you back to Valhalla."

"One, I'm not German. Two, I didn't come from Valhalla. Three, I have your gun," Hitoshi whispered.  
The Guardsmen began to raise their hands.

"Relax, gentlemen, I'm on your side," Hitoshi told them. "I need you to trim your sweep pattern so I can get closer to that fucking castle."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"So you're another Psi-whatever?" asked the first man.

There was no answer.

The Guardsman turned. Whoever had been there was gone. He checked his holster - his sidearm was back in place, but the restraining strap was undone, as if to underscore that someone had, in fact, been here.

"Shit. What do you think?" he asked his partner.

"I think we do what he says."


	30. Alex Returns to the Westview

(Alex's Return to the Westview)

"Here you go, Sir, the Westview Grand," said Lieutenant Drake, sarcasm evident in his tone.

"Thanks," Alex smiled. "I wish I had better answers for you guys."

"Yeah. Puts a new spin on 'final exam,' doesn't it?"

"You should have seen me after the bar," Alex told him.

"Good Evening, Sir. Welcome to the Westview Grand," the desk clerk said. "I'm afraid we have no vacant rooms at present."

"I'm looking for Hitoshi Ryder, actually."

"If you'll wait by the house phone," the clerk motioned to a small alcove, "I'll put you through to Mr. Ryde-"

"Alex?" asked Mika Hanamura, coming down the stairs from the Concourse level.  
"Mika, right?"

"Yes. Hitoshi is upstairs. He'd said something about talking to the others, which includes you," she says. She turns to address the desk clerk. "Michael, if you could issue a card key for Mr. North, so he has access to the executive levels?"

"Of course, Miss Hanamura."

"What do you think of all of this?" Alex asked her as they were taking the elevator back to Hitoshi's office.

"I recognize that there are ... realities I am newly aware of," she says, "but I will tell you what I told Hitoshi. Remember who you are, and you need not fear what you may become."

"I don't know what I am becoming," Alex said. "Tyr - my father - is the God of Justice, but I am apparently acquiring other abilities."

"And they frighten you."

"Is it showing?" Alex asked.

"No," Mika told him. "Everyone has a moment like this. It seems, for the children of the gods, it can be more of a crucible than 'adolescence.'"

Alex thought back to his ordeal in Afghanistan. "That's true."

They arrive. Mika introduces him to Hitoshi's executive secretary, and Alex provides her with contact information.

"Though I understand I don't have a house anymore, so my address may be changing," he says.

"Hitoshi has told me about Ragnarok, and that, along with himself, you, Lya, and Detective Cartwright are the children of gods long thought of as myth," Mika says.

"There's no denying it now," Alex smiled. "Despite trying to keep it quiet, I got assaulted at the convention center. And someone tipped off the guys in the snow fort, because they sent a detachment of Einjehar after me. I'm not sure they'll try that again any time soon. Oh, and I suspect the Assistant District Attorney is on the enemy's payroll. I'm certain she's like Hitoshi and myself."

Alex sees the clock and realizes how much time has passed. "Time flies when you're having fun. Is Hitoshi here yet?" 

At Alex's words, Hitoshi walks back into Mika's office, straightening his suit as he does so, but there's no hiding the stains of blood on it. "Hey Alex, how'd things with the military go?"

"I got shot. Again," he frowns. "Lyman had a Jotunblut thrall among the civvies, and everyone got an eyeful. Might as well get a new business card that reads, 'Alex North, Son of Tyr."

"No problem with bringing Arky's people over to the Westview, other than Lyman will know about it. It turns out Soleil Hunter over at the DA's office is one of us, but in Lyman's camp. She wouldn't tell me who her divine parent is, and I haven't seen her do anything out of the ordinary other than bend men to her will," he added. "She's got him convinced he's in love with her."

Hitoshi picks up a highlighter and writes Soliel Hunter on the glass of Mika's office. "Well Douglas Maxwell turned out to be one of us as well, and working with Lymann even. However, he's taken care of... I think. I'm not sure about anyone else on the board though, but I get the impression that I ruined their plans when I assumed control of the Westview."

"What would they need another resort hotel for?" Alex asked. "Wasn't one of the names on that list compiled by my half-brother - Thomas Cardinelli - wasn't one of them a casino owner himself? Unless whatever they were planning fell through, and that guy was cut off or cut loose. Or maybe just had his own plans. I imagine it's a wake-up call when you realize you're backing the bad guys."

"The problem with that question Alex, is we still don't have those particular answers. Maybe they were going to turn All of Las Vegas into one giant ice castle, who knows. All I know is Maxwell told me before he foll off the balcony to my office, is that I ruined their plans for the Westview. Frankly, I'm glad I did. Anyways, I haven't seen Lya or Evie, but knowing how things have went, I'm pretty sure The girls made Lya get some rest at some point. Klepto is pretty strict on healthcare. Hell, she will probably go after me the minute I show my face around her. I'm gonna go head up to my room up here and see if I have a change of clothes as it's probably best I not show up covered in the blood of another man, much less my own."

"Mika, I may be CEO, but I haven't really moved in. All of my clothes are at home ... out there," Hitoshi frowns. "If anyone, least of all Karen, should see me in this state, the whole return of the gods thing will turn into a PR nightmare."

"There are stores on the Concourse that will remedy any clothing issues," Alex reminded him. "We just need your sizes."

"I may dress well, but I'm like a lot of men: I don't know," Hitoshi grins. "Give me a moment." He excuses himself and steps into the private washroom attached to his office. His secretary, who has been quietly attending to her work, looks up at Mika and Alex.

"Miss Ryder provided me with the information you're looking for," she said, handing you a neat printout of Hitoshi's measurements. "She asked the tailor the last time Hitoshi brought something in."

"Want to bet the clothiers here have a suit for him?" Alex asked.

"No bet," Mika says. "It is common practice for executives in Japan. If I send a monogrammed polo shirt to a business partner, I want to make sure it fits. Knowing your opponent is important."

"Shirt's off the rack," Hitoshi said. "Waist is 32. I wrote down the inseam from the label, but I know the tailor took a couple of inches off. I wrote everything down."

He hands you another piece of paper.

"I can take care of it," Mika says. "Excuse me."

She whisks away.

"Where are the others?" Alex asked.

"Downstairs getting some rest, I hope," Hitoshi said. "I gave them the key to my penthouse."

"Speaking of which, Lyman blew up my house. I'd grab a rack along with the rest of the guests, but after the attack at the Convention Center, I don't want my presence to put a target on someone else's back,"

Alex said. "Can I book a room?"  
"We're not actually operating the hotel right now," Hitoshi explains. "But we're not turning people out into the street, either."

He looks at his secretary. "Call down to the desk and have them give Alex a room."

"I appreciate it, Hitoshi."

"Not a problem Alex." Hitoshi says, smiling grimly. "Well I guess I should grab a shower while I can and then burn these clothes before the others see me. If you want, you can wait up in my penthouse while I do so. Mika should be able to bring the clothes up when she gets them." He steps out if the office and heads towards the private elevator that leads up to the penthouse suits that belong to him and his mother.

It's not quite a sleep-over, but Evie, Lya, and the Furies are all sprawled out. Evie's slumped to one side in an armchair. Lya is sprawled on the bed, her head in Klepto's lap; Klepto is also asleep. Oritihia is sleeping on the floor in front of the penthouse door - it would have been impossible for anyone to enter without waking her.

Phoebe and Toxic are laying on the two sofas bracketing the coffee table.

"Aw come on Dad... just one more cup of mana..." Lya mutters in her sleep as she shifts to roll to her side. The movement disturbs Klepto and makes her move her hand, which causes Lya's hair to fall in her face and her hand to reach out and accidentally smack herself in the face which wakes her up.

"Dammit Toxic, I told you not to do that again!" Lya yelps as she sits up and notices Hitoshi. "Oh... hey... Hitoshi! You're back!"

"Whozzawhut?" Evie blearily opens her eyes at Lya's yelp. She lifts her head and shifts to sit up, muttering "owww" quietly. She turns her head, stretching out her neck and shoulders.

Hitoshi looks over at Orithia who he just woke up by tripping over her, then back to Lya, and now Evie. "I was trying not to wake all of you." He pulls his suit jacket closed and buttons it, trying to hide all the blood on his shirt, but not realizing how much soaked through the jacket itself. Crossing his arms he frowns.

"You all need the rest, feel free to continue to use my room for now. I'm just going to grab a quick shower before a meeting. Sorry for tripping over you Orithia." His voice is quiet.

Alex moves to the wet bar and gets a glass of ice water.

"That'd better be for you," Toxic says, her eyes still appearing to be closed.

"It's the Fenris wolf that's supposed to take off Tyr's hand," Alex says. "I don't need to be losing anything else."

"Mmph."

He makes himself at home in another armchair and waits for Hitoshi to finish before diving in to the stack of problems ahead.

Lya runs a hand through her hair as Klepto sits up and stretches until her back pops. "Oh no, Hitoshi... we've been waiting for you guys to get back so you're not brushing us off that easily," Lya says before pushing herself off the bed and padding over to the coffee machine. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

Orithia shifts behind Hitoshi and gets up to her feet with a few mumbled words and a stretch. "Hey Hitoshi..." she mutters as she heads toward the bathroom, "you've got a little red on you."

Evie stands up and lifts her hands above her head, stretching, "So, how did things go for you two?"

She catches a whiff of herself and makes a "eww" face, "I...uhhhh...should probably take a shower soon."

Hitoshi scratches his head. "Yea well, I ran into a little trouble. Don't worry, none of it's mine, and I ant a shower and new clothes first before we talk about anything." He look around the room then walks over to the intercom and hits the button and calls his Secretary. "Are the other two penthouses being used?"

"One was being used by Congressman Malcolm, but he's checked out," the secretary says. "The other penthouse is still available."

"Excellent. I need Key cards made for all the Furies, and Lya." He turns around.

"Evie, are you staying with them, or do you wish to have one for you and anyone else you want staying with you?"

Evie shrugs and says, "I'm fine with whatever. It's up to the rest of the gals. I don't have anyone else that would be staying with me."

"I hate to sound pessimistic," Alex said, "but we are beset on all sides by our enemies, etc., etc."

"It can't be that bad ... can it?" Evie asked.

"Let's see, a Scion in the Assistant District Attorney's office. A Jotunblut thrall that was waiting for me to show up. At least one Scion on the Westview's Board of Directors, and one more we haven't accounted for," Alex said. "We're reacting. I think we need to take the initiative and do something _they_ don't expect."

"From what we learned from the Senator and the Colonel, there's definitely more than one," Lya replied as she walked over to her jacket and fished for her phone. "One of the women seemed to have an ability that made them follow her to the room," she said as she flipped through the pictures and handed the phone to Hitoshi. "Recognize either of them? I asked what their names were, but all they could remember was Hattie...Hottie... something like that."

The coffee machine beeps and Toxic climbs over the sofa to start pouring a cup. "Tell him the best part, Lya."

"Oh yeah... get this guys... turns out they were trying to impersonate the Colonel in order to get codes out of his safe for launching nuclear _fucking _missiles."

"Which they didn't... thanks to your quick thinking..." Toxic adds as she walks over and hands Lya a cup as she gives her shoulder a squeeze.

"Mmmm...coffee... is there a goddess of coffee?" Lya mutters to herself as she inhales the scent of the hot drink and takes a sip.

"I think I have the answer for that," Evie says in reply to Alex's statement about being reactive. "I took some time to observe the castle while you were away. Lyman has somehow established a magical anchor between it and Asgard."

She walks over to the window and looks out, once more able to clearly see everything, the snow about as much of a hindrance to her sight as plastic wrap.

Even though the others can't see it, she still gestures towards the anchor as she talks, "There's a pulsing line of energy connecting the castle to Asgard. Now, I had noticed Asgard in the sky when Lya and I were driving to Sanctuary, but I didn't think much about it, at the time. I didn't know if it was normal for it to be there...you know...is it always there but mortals can't see it? That sort of thing."

"But, once I saw the light I just..._knew_...what it was. An anchor. It's holding Asgard there. I think that, somehow, Lyman is drawing his power from Asgard. If we can sever that anchor, maybe it'll stop this winter and make the giants disappear."

"I'm guessing you might be able to see it Alex, but I surely can't... and I'm guessing Hitoshi can't either," Lya replies. "Which means that if we try something Hitoshi and I will have to run defense while you two do something with that anchor. What, I have absolutely no idea."

She takes a sip of her coffee and ponders for a moment. "We could try calling Hrofgar and see if he is willing to share any info, though. We do have that sarcophagus made out of that weird metal that could be of use to him."

"I had the Guard take me for a quick recon," Alex said. "I didn't see anything like a pulsing line or anchor. It's a fortress of classic design. If Lyman has something essential inside, then we're going to have to get in there somehow. I'm not sure I can persuade anyone on the mortal side of things of the necessity for doing so."

He glances at the woman's photo. "I don't recognize her."

"It's Selene Chase," Mika Hanamura offers. "I had my suspicions after we went to Japan to appraise the Pacific Rim merger."

"How do you get from Selene to Hattie?" Alex frowned. "Seems like a weird choice for a fake name. You want it to be something you'll recognize when someone calls out to y-"

He pales.

"Shit. Not Hattie or Hottie ... _Hati,"_ Alex thumped his forehead. "One of Fenris' brood, a wolf who chased and devoured the moon. Selene Chase. And that tells me who my friend in the DA's office is - Fenris' other kid, _Skoll,_who chased the sun. Soleil Hunter."

"I think Lya has the right of it when she suggests calling Hrojar to help us get into the castle. If we can just get a blueprint of the layout, I can get us to the anchor. I know where it is...well...I know the coordinates. But, that doesn't tell me what hallway to go down or which door to take," Evie says. "I figure we can offer him the sarcophagus in payment."

She takes a deep breath and puffs it out in thought, "That's only half the problem, though. I have no idea what to do with the anchor once we find it. Can we disrupt the beam? Can we destroy whatever is making the beam? Can we just move the anchor and that will throw things off? I don't know!"

"What's the old military saying? 'If it moves, salute it; if it doesn't, shoot it,'" Alex said. "We get in, we find the damned thing. If it's not an actual anchor, we grab it and run like hell. If we can't move it, we slap a satchel charge on the damn thing and blow it all to hell."

"That's assuming it's not some mystical mumbo-jumbo that can't be affected like that," Lya replies. "Still, it's the closest thing to an attack plan we've had... so let me grab a shower and I'll start making some phone calls."

She smacks her forehead. "Shit... speaking of phone calls... I need to call Arky so we can get the people from Sanctuary moving to the hotel. If the shit is going to hit the fan out there, I want to get as many innocent people as we can out of the way first. The Colonel was nice enough to give me a note allowing passage with no questions for everyone after we saved his ass." She pulls her shirt off to reveal her bra as she pads towards the bathroom. "Another great story by the way... turns out Chinese goddesses like to slum it as doctors here on Earth..." the door closes and the sounds of running water come from the bathroom.

Evie nods in agreement, "Let's just hope that we can do something about it the first time we get in there. If we can't, Lyman won't give us a second chance. Once he knows that we know about the anchor, all bets are off."

The detective leans back in her chair, unbothered by Lya starting to disrobe before leaving the room. She's showered with enough ladies in locker rooms that it's not an issue. However, she does perk up at the sound of running water.

"That is an excellent idea. I need to wash the stank off myself and get some fresh clothes. If I don't Lyman's either going to smell me a mile away or else I can be re-categorized as a biological weapon."

She chuckles and stands, "I'm going to run down to the concourse and get fresh clothes. I'll be back to shower and then...I dunno. I guess we'll get Arky squared away and then tackle this thing."

"Hey, Evie, can you pinpoint the location of this anchor-thing on Google Maps or something? Share it with everyone's smart phones, so if we get cut off, we're not blind?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, I think I should be able to do that. In fact, let me do it while I'm thinking about it," she says. Evie pulls out her phone and begins looking up the coordinates to share.

"Do I even get to shower... in my own... fuck it." Hitoshi mutters as Lya takes over the bathrooms. He sighs and takes the clothes from Mika, walking out the door. "Oh Screw all this, I'm going to the other penthouse. I'm not killing anyone else till I've had a hot shower and a change of clothing."

"You'd think he hasn't used a communal shower before," Orithia wonders as she heads into the bathroom to join Lya.

"Don't they have bath houses in Asia too?" Phoebe asks as she gets her own cup of coffee. "I sure could go for a large heated bath right about now."

Evie doesn't say anything, but just sort of grins at the exchange as she finalizes the coordinates and blasts them over to everyone's phones.

"Alright. I think that does it. I'll be back after I grab some clothes," she grins playfully at Phoebe as she walks past. "I think that shower will only fit so many of us, anyway. May as well wait my turn!"

With that, she slips out and makes her way down to the concourse, intent on finding some good, functional clothing. Nothing fancy. Just some jeans and a rugged, long-sleeved shirt if she can find one. Evie isn't trying to impress anyone. She simply wants clothes that will withstand some wear and tear.

"A quick question while Lya and Evie are busy, then," Alex says. "Hitoshi, I know you've killed people before. I started my day by fighting eighteen Einjehar. Toxic, I don't doubt that you and the rest of the Furies would hold back in a fight ... but what about Lya? And Evie, I understand she's a cop, but we're not fighting crime.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable putting either of them in a situation that calls for killing. I'm not trying to be 'leave it to the men,' - it's just that a piece of you dies when you kill. Every hero has to face that, and make a choice."

Klepto sits back against the headboard of the bed and takes a drag off of one of Lya's cigarettes from the previous night. "You guys ever heard the story of King Pentheus from Greek mythology?"

"Probably not traditional in the textbook," Toxic snorts.

"Well anyway... this king decided to ban the worship of Dionysus in his city and punish anyone he caught worshiping someone he didn't believe was a god. When Dionysus heard of this he lured Pentheus into the woods with stories of the wild rituals that women conducted in Dionysus name... where the Maenads, along with Pentheus' mother, thinking he was a lion, promptly ripped him apart and stuck his head on a spike before parading it around town."

"Long story short," Toxic continues after a stunned silence from the men, "Dionysus and his kin love to party... but if you harsh their buzz they will fuck your shit up."

Hitoshi pauses at the door in quiet contemplation. He's silent for a full minute before he speaks. "Killing monsters is one thing, but I don't want Lya killing another human being, even a Scion. I've already gone down that path, Fifty... make it fifty-one times now, the last being Douglas Maxwell only ten minutes ago. I can say that it gets a little easier each time I do it. Lya is the glue that binds us together, and she is the friend that kept me going over the years, when I honestly just wanted to give up."

He turns around, a hollow look in his eyes.

"I've chosen to go down a path to which there is no going back. I will be the sword we need in this war, but the thought of Lya taking a step down this path alongside me..."

He pauses and looks at each of the furies one at a time, then at Alex. "Please don't let her follow me into the darkness. She is the people's hero, the light that they follow in a bleak world. Killing someone will take a bit of that light each time she does so."

With that said he turns, steps across the hall and swipes his access card, opening the door to the unused penthouse. As the door swing shut, he starts taking off the bloody clothes, still wet with Maxwell blood, his skin stained red underneath.

"Your thoughts are noble... but as warriors like you and I know when it comes to war, Alex, we don't always have that option," Klepto replies quietly once Hitoshi leaves the room.

"We will lay our lives down to keep Lya from getting hurt..." Phoebe adds. "But if the choice is before her to kill or let innocent people suffer..."

"Then that's her choice to make... and hers alone," Toxic finishes grimly.

"Which is what I was trying to get at," Alex says. "It's going to come up sooner or later. You've known her longer than I have. Is she ready? Well, as ready as anyone can be when that moment drops out of the sky."

"She'd lived on the streets and survived with the gangs for years before we met her," Klepto replies. "Hitoshi may have saved her from being raped, but she's seen her share of humanity's darkness and managed to come out the better for it because her will is strong, Alex. Don't discount her compassion for weakness."

"We've trained her best we can," Toxic continues as she sits on the bed next to Klepto and hands her a cup of coffee. "While she won't be punching through Jotunblut or slicing them down with blades, give her a gun and she'll shoot one in the head as well as one of your snipers."

"All right, then," Alex said. "We're there. I don't see any course other than laying siege to their keep. Maybe Hrogar knows a way inside. Or maybe even Arky - the snow fort appeared on top of his old stomping grounds."

He looks out the window into the snowy evening.

"Asgard. Never been there," he said. "I wonder what it's like?"

"It's a product of your religion, not ours," Orithia scoffs as she steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head. "Lya will be out in a minute for whoever wants dibs in the shower next."

"The Greeks have affection for marble columns and open air," Phoebe offers. "I imagine Asgard would be a product of their culture as well... so my guess would be snow, wood, mead and longhouses."

"Well, maybe when we win, we can do the scenic tour," Alex laughed. "What's the point of being a god, or descended from one, if you can't enjoy a beer or two or ten?"

"I'm good on the shower, got one at the Convention Center, even if it was a military shower," he adds. "Evie will want to use it."

After a quick, hot shower Hitoshi steps out, wrapping the Towel around his waist and walking over to it, wipes the steam off the mirror, starting at himself long and hard. As he watches, his eyes turn inky black. He closes them, and when he opens them again, they are back to the same icy blue grey color he'd always had. He searches for an answer in the person that wasnt him on the other side of the mirror, then finally he reaches for his phone and hits speed dial for Heishi's number.

"Heishi, Is Maxwell taken care of?"

You can still hear the wind outside.

"Hai, Ryder-sama," Heishi says. He sniffs. "It is done. I will return shortly. Is there something else you require?" 

(Lya)

Lya steps out of the steaming bathroom with her long hair pleated in a loose braid and a towel wrapped around her torso. "I dare say I almost feel human again!" she chuckles as she flops onto the bed and grabs her phone off the side table to give Arky a call to hopefully start the exodus to the hotel.

"Hola!" answers Arky. "What's the good word, Cousin?"

Lya explains about the safe passage granted by Colonel Ellison.

"Impressive," he says. "We're set here. Still enough daylight to make the move today instead of tomorrow, too. Can we access the Westview's garage?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, Cus, I'll get with Hitoshi and make sure we have someone down there to open it for you. You'll need proof of the writ from the Colonel, though, so let me get a vehicle together and we'll be heading over that way within the hour. Gotta dry my hair so I'm not wearing an icicle, you know?"

Evie returns from the concourse, a new set of clothing in hand. Seeing Lya on the phone, she just smiles and waves, not wishing to interrupt. She takes a moment to stand at the bed, pulling tags off of the new clothes and tossing them in the trash before disappearing into the bathroom for a shower.

"Okay," Arky says. "It's not like we're going anywhere."

As you end the call, Mika Hanamura nods. "Access to the garage? We can have one of our security guards waiting for their arrival."

"Outstanding," Lya replies as she proceeds to dry her hair the best she can. "Toxic, you want to see if you can dig us up some warmer clothes? We'll see if Evie wants to come with us again when she gets out of the shower."

"No way I'm getting stuck at the hotel again," Toxic replies as she walks by Alex towards the door. "No offense, North, but the boys are hogging all the action."

"Is this like Legolas and Gimli at Helm's Deep?" Alex laughed. "I think there will be enough for all of us, and then some."

"Hey, Evie, wasn't Thomas buried with a swo-" he begins to ask, but Evie disappears into the bathroom for her shower. "I expect we'll run into more bad guys than we can carry bullets for. Gonna need a baseball bat or something."

"Speaking of weapons... time for my next call," Lya says as she dials up the Hrofgar to see if he can be of any assistance. "I don't know what the snow might have done to the scrap yard, but I'll bet you that sarcophagus is still there. Might have to dig it out... but Dwarves are good at that kind of thing, right?"

"Hrofgar and Sons," answers the voice. "Ah. Lya Bach. Rethinking that vacation home in Crete, are we?"

"Yeah I'm definitely regretting my choice of location these days," Lya chuckles. "I do have my eye on a certain property that's popped up recently though... I just need some assistance with getting to check out the interior to see if it's suitable for my needs. Friend of mine heard a rumor that there's some dimensional anchor in the front yard, and that might bring down the property value a bit."

She sits up in the bed and pulls out a clove cigarette to light from her coat. "Now I realize you don't normally play real estate agent... so I'm willing to compensate you for your time. Seems that I've got a rather large piece of meteoric space metal just waiting to be molded into a work of art by the right hands." She takes a puff of her cigarette and lets it out slowly. "So what do you say? I'm sure you could make some weapons out of it that would put Mjolnir to shame."

"Meteoric iron?" Hrofgar says. "And not some dinky lump that landed in someone's backyard, am I right? You have definitely piqued my interest, my dear."

He pauses.

"I imagine the property you're inquiring about is fairly large and surrounded by a small ravine? This isn't something to talk about over the phone. Hold on."

You hear him calling out to someone else in the office, telling them he's stepping out ...

... and the next moment, he's standing in the suite. Of course, he looks and smells like he'd been standing at the forge.

"Ladies!" he booms. "Good to see you all again! And Tyrsson! No worse for the wear, it seems."

It's about this time that Evie steps out of the bathroom, clothed in fresh garb and vigorously rubbing her hair dry with a towel. (One of the advantages of short hair is that it takes no time to wash and dry!)

As one edge of the towel flaps upwards giving her a view of the room, she stops short, startled. She had not expected a dwarf to be in the room! "Oh! Oh...hey. Hi, there, Hrofgar."

Hrofgar hums the opening bars of the _Dragnet_ theme.

"Detective," he says. "All right, so you want to pay a visit to Laufeyson's new digs, is that it? Mind, I got no idea what that place looks like. My boys and I did the bunkers in the basement, not that freaking castle."

"Well, that's a start, at least. Would you be able to point us towards any maintenance tunnels or something of that ilk? Something that wouldn't normally be used by Lyman's stooges?" Evie sits down on the edge of the bed and tosses the towel aside. She reaches up and runs her fingers through her still damp hair in an effort to kinda-sorta comb it.

"The storm drain system is still there. I split some of the wings up and turned them into storage space, put bars on the outward-facing ends," Hrofgar says. "Working your way up through the bunkers is not going to be easy, though. It's a classic ring structure around an open central shaft. There's top-to-bottom access, but that's the main thoroughfare. If you want to sneak around, you'll be crossing each level to reach the ladder way to the next."

"Still better than the front door," Lya replies as she scoots under the sheets. "Any chance on a map? And yes, we're talking about more than a pebble sized meteor, Hrofgar... turns out Lyman's got a thing for the dramatic and had a sarcophagus fit for an adult male made out of the stuff. We just happened to take it off his hands when he wasn't using it anymore and put it into storage. If you'd work your magic and provide us some weapons, I'd be more than willing to let you keep what's left for your own purposes."

"What's this about weapons?" Toxic exclaims as she returns with a bag full of clothes that she tosses on the bed. "That's the kind of shopping I'm talking about..."

"Where's Hitoshi?" Phoebe asks Mika quietly as the others confer. "Shouldn't he be here since we're working on an attack plan?"

"I'll be glad to take that off your hands, but it'll take time to craft weapons out of it ... at least if you want them to be decent ones," Hrofgar says. "I imagine you're all in favor of function over form, right?"

"If you're going after Laufeyson sooner rather than later, I can still provide weapons, they just won't be made of this sarcophagus you're talking about."

"Understood. Something like that we'd want your best work, so take your time," Lya replies as she pulls some clothes out of the bag and starts getting dressed under the sheets. "Regular weapons in the meantime would be awesome, though, since we don't have much in the hotel other than sports equipment."

She scratches her head in thought for a moment. "I mean... regular weapons will _work..._ right? Jotunblut's are no problem, and Trolls seem to fall... but you're the only one of us who has fought these Einherjar, Alex."

"Regular weapons will work fine," Alex said. "Although Einjehar are summoned warriors from Valhalla, they have no special immunities or protection from harm. They're completely loyal to whoever summoned them, they won't yield or surrender, and that's what makes them frightening to mortals who feel pain and fear grave injury."

"But don't mistake them for mindless cannon fodder, either. Their ranks include everything from medieval knights to Nazi SS officers, so don't be surprised if someone pulls a gun in the middle of a swordfight."

"What about the frost giants?" Evie asks. "Now, I plan on doing everything in my power to avoid having to fight them but...the best laid plans..."

"No plan ever survives contact with the enemy," Alex smiles. "But trying to plan for every last contingency just gets you a headache. You're the one who can find this anchor without using a map, so the rest of us will run interference and block for you as best we can. If you can't walk, I'll pick you up and carry you."

"I see..._cardio_...in my future," Evie puts her hand to her temple and takes on a grave and mysterious expression, like an old-timey fortuneteller, before she chuckles and grins.

"Maybe we can contact Thomas. He may still be hanging around and can tell us a bit more about the castle's layout, if he has access to it," Evie suggests.

"Believe me, I'll be the first one bringing a gun to a sword fight," Lya jokes.

"Speaking of maps though, having one of the sewer system showing all the parts you blocked off would be great, Hrofgar. Just because Evie knows exactly where the anchor is, doesn't necessarily mean we want to head there in a straight line. I'm all for the convoluted sneaky way if if means we can try and avoid as many fights as possible."

She takes another drag of her cigarette. "So theoretically let's say we make it to where this anchor is... what then? Do we have any ideas on how to...um... turn it off, I guess?"

"Exactly," Evie agrees. "I just know the direction I need to go. The last thing I want to do is lead us down a hallway with no exit and get us trapped because I'm guessing at which door to take."

Evie thinks about it for a second and says, "Well, the thing about an anchor is that you don't necessarily have to destroy the line or the weight. You just have to get rid of whatever it's latched onto. It has to be tied...or something like that...to something within the castle. If we can break whatever it's holding onto, what it is holding in place will drift away, just like a boat in a current."

"At least, that's my theory."

"Unplug it, remove it, smash it, throw Lyman into the beam," Alex said. "I'd bet Hitoshi will volunteer for the last one, if I don't beat him to it."

"If you want to do the sneaky thing, should I just round up the National Guard and make a big fuss at the front door, then when they all come to look, you sneak in through the basement window?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt if they wanted to provide a distraction," Lya replies as she looks around the room. "Where IS Hitoshi, anyway? Shouldn't he be in on this if we're making plans?"

"So... should we try and be prepared to break something then?" Lya continues. "I'm all for some explosives if we can get our hands on it... something quick so we're not all stuck there pounding on it with hammers while we're getting surrounded. Not to mention the fact that large explosions are great distractions... because I for one would like to be able to get out of there again once we take care of the anchor."

She stubs out her cigarette in the ash tray and gets up out of bed with a purple sweater on and a tug of fleece leggings over her ass. "So when we destroy this anchor... is the castle we'll be in going to go with it? Because correct me if I'm wrong, Hrofgar... you guys just built the foundation and the rest just kind of... showed up, right?"

Evie snorts, "If the castle goes back to where it belongs...in one of the Nordic realms, I suspect...then we may well find ourselves there, too."

She shudders, "I'd just as soon not wind up on the frost giants doorstep. They would be from...what? Nilfheim?"

"Yup," says the dwarf. "I don't know if this anchor thingy you're talking about is like a rubberband, or if it's like a real anchor. Cut the chain, the anchor stays behind, and the boat is cast adrift."

"Speaking of which, if that castle gets left behind, I have a cousin who does demolition and salvage," he adds.

"I don't know if we'd end up in Niflheim," Alex said. "There's not a second anchor tying it there, just one leading to Asgard. And if we end up there, having a couple of Aesir in the group won't hurt."  
"Mika, can you check on Hitoshi? He's taking awful long with that shower," Alex asks. He rubs his hand against his own jaw, realizes he's getting stubble. "Ah, screw it. This isn't a fancy dress party."

"If the castle gets left behind, I say we turn it into a tourist attraction and put the money towards rebuilding the city," Lya replies as she adds some rum to her coffee and then pours a separate cup of alcohol to offer to Hrofgar.

"But first things first..." she takes a drink and then walks over to the nightstand where she grabs a pen and a pad of hotel stationary to hand to the dwarf. "How about that map while you're here? Between your knowledge and Arky's experience, we should be able to navigate through the tunnels pretty well."

Hrofgar reaches into his satchel and takes out copies of some blueprints.

"Had these copied for you," he says. "The ravine's nasty. No cover. It's a hunting ground, so make sure you cross it quickly."

"Seriously, give my cousin Bjorn a call," he adds, scribbling down another number on the hotel pad. "He's done battlefield reclamation before, a castle and a ravine are a drop in the bucket."

"Perfect," exclaims Lya as she scans through the maps and hands them to Evie for safe-keeping. "You're the navigator, Evie... best to get familiar with the layout so you can match it with your homing sense."

"Now all we need are some weapons and we can get this ball rolling," she continues. "I'm not the Xena type though... a few more clips for my Beretta and I'll be happy. Can't say the same for anybody else though."

She grabs a pen and writes down the address of the scrap yard where they left the sarcophagus. "This is where we left it before the snow hit, Hrofgar. If anybody asks, just tell them that I said it was ok and I'll bring them a bottle when this mess is over."

Nodding, Evie accepts the maps and begins looking them over, trying to match up everything so that she knows where they are going.

As she continues to eye the papers, she says distractedly, "I use guns, mostly. Standard police issue Glock. A good billy club would be nice, too. I'm halfway decent at smacking folks upside the head when they need it."

"Guard is using Sig-Sauer," Alex said. "They'll have the right bullets, but not the right magazine. Evie, the Department still uses the Beretta 92F, don't they?"

"Hrofgar, anything we can use to whack things after we run out of bullets will be greatly appreciated," he adds.

"Hey if you want to provide me a gun to go with the bullets, I don't care what kind I use as long as it fires and doesn't jam if I look at it wrong," Lya chuckles. "I'm not bad at throwing knives... but I'd prefer to stick to my guns, so to speak. All else fails, I imagine I'll probably be able to pick up a few along the way."

"I think I have enough pull with the Guard to get us some firepower and the means to get out to the ravine," Alex said. "And maybe arrange for our distraction."

"Sounds like a plan to me then," Lya says with a smile as she claps her hands together. "Hrofgar, it's been a pleasure," Lya says to the dwarf with a smile and a handshake. "If we all survive this mess, I'll be sure to look you up for some more commercial ventures."

She finishes her drink and sets down the glass before grabbing her coat. "In the meantime, I need to get to Sanctuary so we can get Arky and his people relocated. Who wants to come with me?"

"I already called shotgun," Toxic exclaims as she puts on a warmer sweater. "I'm not staying behind again this time."

Lya chuckles. "Noted. Anyone else? We need to get the Colonel's writ of passage to Arky so we can make sure his people won't be interrupted on the way back. That, and I want to make sure that Lyman and his cronies don't pull anything."

"Hold up. Let me make a backup of these maps and I'll join you," Evie says as she pulls out her phone.

She pauses, though, and turns to the dwarf with a smile, "We really do appreciate your help with this, sir. If we live, I certainly won't forget you." Evie shakes his hand.

Then, she turns back to the maps. Spreading them out on the bed, she takes pictures of them with her phone and sends copies to everyone, "There. Just in case anything happens to the physical copies. Plus, like Alex said, if we get separated for whatever reason, we all still have them."

The detective folds up the maps and hands them to Alex, "Are you staying? If so, I think the maps would be safer with you than riding around with us."

"I'll work on getting some help from the Guard. Or, at least, Guardsmen who aren't being micromanaged into doing nothing," Alex said. "Evie, are you set for firepower? And, Toxic, Orithia, Phoebs, Klepto? You want guns, or are you going to go old school?"

"I'll take anything you can get for me," she replies. "I'm not going to be picky about anything, at this point."

"I'm not about to go up against a Troll with a shovel again," Klepto snorts. "Seeing as Evie and Lya have the guns in hand, we'll take up the slack with some old-school melee weapons."

"Gods... it feels like it's been ages since I've wielded a sword... I hope I'm not rusty!" Orithia exclaims.

"All right, then," Hrofgar says. "Anyone interested in swords, knives, polearms, shields, and the like, come with me. We have some stock weapons and armor available, round out any modern stuff you're wearing with some old fashioned steel."

"I'll stay with Lya," Toxic says. "Orithia, you know my preferences."

Orithia nods.

"A longsword or warhammer, please," Alex says. "I need to talk to the Guard. Contemporary body armor should do fine for me."

"Oooo...I get to go shopping!" Orithia exclaims happily. "You want to come with, Phoebe?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Phoebe grins.

"I will stay here in case Hitoshi should return," Klepto adds. "He'll need to know what our plans are."

"The nice thing about working for divines is when they give you fun toys like this," Hrofgar says, patting his satchel.

In the blink of an eye, he disappears along with Orithia and Phoebe.

"Welcome to my showroom," he says.

The building is a longhouse, the forward third of which is a display of scale architect's models, blueprints, conceptual sketches, and weapons, the latter in everything from gleaming steel to burnished gold.

"As you can see, we're outfitted to produce any melee weapon, to any specification," he says. "Like I told Lya, I can outfit you with temporary stock, arms _and_ armor - better than off the rack, but nothing fancy. Not on short order."

He gestures at a tableau of weapons, and mannequins dressed in furs and armor.

"Swords for five," Orithia said. "Daggers for seven. I'd like to try out one of the bows before committing, though. Leather cuirass and vambraces for four."

"Hrofgar," Phoebe says quietly, "Can you use that teleporting trick to get us inside the keep?"  
"Officially, no," he says.

"Unofficially?" Phoebe smiles.

"Unofficially, it was a gift from the All-Father," is all Hrofgar says. "Come on, we've got a sparring area and a couple of archery lanes outside ..."

**Thunk**

"Oh, Blessed Artemis, if Hippolyta had seen that shot, she'd have me working in the kitchens," Orithia swore.  
"A ventilated spleen isn't bad," Phoebe pointed out.

"It is when you're aiming for their Adam's Apple."

"We haven't practiced archery for ... well, centuries," Phoebe said. "Three arrows in two minutes isn't representative of your true skill."

"We don't have a couple of weeks to practice," Orithia groused.

"Four bows, three dozen arrows each," Phoebe told Hrofgar. She looked back at Orithia. "Shoot another brace, sister. Your skills aren't as atrophied as you imagine."

Several arrows later, Orithia admitted that Phoebe's insight was correct, and applauded her fellow Amazon's own marksmanship.

"All right, let's get back to the others," Orithia said. "Sorry for using you like a taxi service, Hrofgar."

"For a sarcophagus-sized hunk of meteoric iron? That's worth more than its weight in gold, and we take good care of our top customers," Hrofgar said. "Let's go."

(Lya)

"I need a vehicle," Lya said to the desk manager.

Keys are handed over without further question. Karen Ryder's speech made it clear that these are remarkable times, and that any semblance of a future for mankind hinges upon the part that Lya and the others will play.

"Good luck," he says.

"We're not storming the heavens yet," Lya says. "But we will be bringing back more refugees."

The white SUV you'd used before is gone, but you're not looking for stealth this time, and Ellison's free passage should work for you as well as Arky's people.

The drive to Sanctuary is much easier for not having to follow a circuitous route. You are waved in through the main gate.

"Lya!" Arky says, greeting you with a hug. "And ... Toxic, yes? Are you a hugging type?"

"Within reason," she says.

Arky gives her a much more reserved hug. "Lya, we're ready. Everything's packed, and everyone was told to be ready to move. Just say the word." 

"We're ready for everyone at the hotel so no time like the present," Lya tells Arky. "If you're sure everything is ready we'll get this ball rolling and I'll take point."

(Orithia, Phoebe)

Hrofgar motioned for a shop assistant to bundle the selected wares, then returned them to the Westview.

"And here we are," he said. "Now, I'm off to see about that sarcophagus."

He vanished.

Mika entered the room as Orithia and Phoebe were still parceling out their purchases.

"Is Ms. Bach back yet?" she asked.

"No, why?" Phoebe said.  
"It appears Hitoshi has left," Mika told them. "I would have considered that he is running errands and making preparations, as you are, except for this."

She holds up the envelope with Lya's name written on it.

Orithia frowns. Phoebe seems to take it in stride and holds out her hand. "I will make sure she sees it."

"Thank you," Mika bows her head. "There is also one for Karen Ryder, which I must go deliver."

"Crap," is all Orithia says. "Are you going to give it to her?"

Phoebe looks down at the envelope.

"I don't know," she says.

"If he wrote one for his mother too you know it isn't going to be good," Orithia theorizes. "I don't _want_ to tell her bad news dammit... she's been through enough already, you know?"

"But if Hitoshi is gone... this could change the plan and everyone should know," Phoebe cautions.

(Orithia, Phoebe)

"The only change it portends is the loss of the element of surprise," Orithia said. "The primary objective is finding this anchor that Detective Cartwright describes. Nothing else matters."

"It's still Lya's right to know," Phoebe said. "We follow where she leads, no matter the risk. If she wants to go after Hitoshi, we go after him. If not, we don't."

"Well, until she comes back, there's nothing we can do," Orithia said. "Oho, this is a nice trick. A layer of steel beneath the leather. Might not stop a bullet or a crossbow, but it'll turn a dagger thrust."

(Lya)

"Bye, Sanctuary," Tawny said, waving. Some of the younger children waved as well. It was all a grand adventure to them.

"I'm afraid accommodations won't be all that different," Lya explained to Arky and Fr. Daniel. "The best way to conserve resources is to run lean, so the Westview has converted their meeting and ballroom spaces to shelter, but it's warmer, and it's further away from the bad guys."

"A roof over our heads is enough," Fr. Daniel said. "Our people will pitch in where they can."

(Alex)

"Lieutenant," Major Fremont looked up from his desk. "Why do I have this feeling you're about to ask for a favor?"

"Well, that depends," Alex told him. "If you pulled out all the stops, how are you set for a ground assault?"

"On the snow fort?" Fremont asked. "Not very well. Come into range of their trebuchets, and we're dodging boulders. What did you have in mind?"

"Enough of a show of force to make them open the doors and be looking in the wrong place."

"While you and the god squad sneak in the back door?" Fremont snorted. "North, you're a JAG Officer - a good one - not a Ranger. And the rest of your band? A CEO, a rock band, and a police detective."

"We're basically under siege. Vegas is snowbound. If we don't take the fight to the enemy, we're handing them a victory," Alex said.

"Well, at least you didn't sleep through your Tactics class," Fremont nodded. "We've asked. The Mayor keeps shooting us down."

"Would it help if I told you Soleil Hunter was one of the bad guys?"

"Shit."

"She'll likely deny it. The District Attorney won't believe anything you say," Alex told him. "She's apparently been working on him for some time."

"So you're asking us to go all in and not say a thing."

"Essentially, yes."

Fremont was quiet for several minutes. "How are you getting inside?"

"Cross the ravine, at the very least."

"All right, then. We'll do it at nightfall. Let me get my people organized."

"Welcome to our home away from home," Lya announces with open arms as she enters the hotel lobby and turns to the people of Sanctuary gradually making their way up from the parking garage. "Me casa is su casa and all that. We've got shelter areas set up on the gaming floor, so please check in with one of the hotel employees so we can make sure everyone can get situated. If anyone has any special health needs or requires medical attention, please let Arky or Father Daniel know so we can make arrangements."

Toxic walks up to Lya and puts a hand on her shoulder. "We should check in with the others after their visit with Hrofgar," she says quietly.

Lya nods in reply. "Arky, Father Daniel, you both should meet with Karen Ryder who runs the hotel. I've told her about you guys coming here, so she'll be the best person to fill you guys in on the day to day operations here and whatever you guys might need. I'm sure someone at the desk will be able to get her for you."

Father Daniel smiles and nods in appreciation as he heads toward the main desk. Lya grabs Arky's arm and stops him for a moment as she leans in to speak quietly. "Doctor Lee was nice enough to pass on some of her knowledge to me after her help with the Colonel. If anyone needs immediate medical attention, I should be able to assist. In the meantime, I need to check in with my friends... so give me a call if you need me, kay?"

"I will," Arky says with one of his room-filling smiles. "Fr. Daniel can hold mass, and we have people from all walks of life who are happy to pitch in."

Returning to the Penthouse, you find Phoebe and Orithia going through one of the many sword 'rituals' developed by the Amazons. You remember more than a few mornings where Toxic's drill sergeant side seemed more than a little sadistic, until you learned that the punishing pace was the standard to which they had been trained, ages ago, because there was no alternative.

Phoebe breaks off.

"Lya, about Hitoshi ..." she says.

"What's wrong?"

"He's gone," Phoebe says. "Mika says he's not in the other suites. And he left this."

She picks up the letter and holds it out to you.

Toxic frowns. "What the ...?" 

(Alex)

"One more thing," Alex added. "I'll need sidearms, reloads, and flak vests for three. And a flare pistol. If you see that flare, it means we fucked up, and you get your people out of there."

"I can do that. Sure you don't want an AR-15?" Fremont asked.

"Didn't keep up my qualifications," Alex admitted. "Pistol, sure, but not rifle."

"All right, go through Lieutenant Drake as your liaison, so Ms. Hunter doesn't hear about you meeting with me."

"Agreed."

Lya frowns as she runs a nail along the envelope and opens it. "He's been gone before but never needed to write a letter..." she mutters to herself as she unfolds the paper and begins to read.

The letter is unmistakably from HItoshi's hand.

_Lya, I am sorry for doing this, but this has to end. You have been my friend for a long time, and in my own way, I have grown to love you as a brother loves a sister. You are the light of the people, the one they need to show them the way._

_I have chosen a darker path, one that you must not go down. I hope you can understand what I am saying; I know the Furies can protect you from everything... except yourself. I know you care so much for the people that you watch over, just as I care for you, that is why I must do this, so that you do not dim the light which shines so brightly._

_ You have seen me at my worst over many years, what you do not know, what I have not told you, are the events of Japan. All you know is how I was when I came back, and that I was like you. I didn't want you to ever see my pain, but I guess you must know. Everything I said during the torture of that gang member months ago, was true. I was called one day out of the blue by an old childhood friend named Akane, a lovely girl with a heart almost as bright as yours. She needed help, The Japanese Yakuza held her in a sex slave ring. I still don't know how she escaped but she did and turned to the only friend she ever had. You know me, I saved you from that gang, and I could do no less for her. It was during my attempt to get her out of the country that we were found, and the Yakuza put the marks on my back that you have seen those rare few times. Each mark carved with a razor sharp tanto is a reminder of my failure then. I started down this dark path the moment they killed her. Fifty men died that day on the blade of Honjo Masamune. I felt each life, I saw the light dim in each pair of eyes, and it's not something you forget. Some ran scared and I chased them down killing them from behind. Others knew what was coming and stood there with quiet acceptance. I struck them down all the same. I killed a man today, Douglas Maxwell, and other than a few moments remorse and a few years, I felt less emotion for him than I did for those fifty men that died so long ago. Orders have been left in a sealed envelope in the safe in my office. The Code is 16528917. The papers will, in the event of my death, Transfer possession of the Casino to you under the conditions that my mother be kept on as head manager to run the place. Speaking of, I have told her to let Arky's people in when they get here and give them proper accommodations. You and the Furies have the penthouse suite next to mine. I will watch over you from beyond. I was born for one reason, I see that now. I am a relic of an age long past, you and I both know this. To fight our monster, I have to give in and become an even worse monster... Lyman will die, I can assure you… even if it kills me as well.  
_

_Love,_  
_Hitoshi Ryder_

"That self-righteous son of a BITCH who does he think he is?" Lya yells as she crumples up the letter and throws it in the corner. She then pulls out her flask and takes a long drink in silence.

"Lya? Are you all right?" Phoebe asks gently.

"Oh I am fine... it's Hitoshi who is going to need help, Phoebe... because if he doesn't get killed trying to get through those Einherjar to kill Lyman all by himself, then I am going to kill him!"

"By himself? That's quite brave," Orithia whistles.

"It's bloody stupid is what it is!" Lya growls before taking another drink. "We've finally got a plan together on how to stop Lyman and the Fenris bitches and what happens? He disappears to go on a fool crusade because he assumes he knows what's best for me. Like he's my goddamn mother or something!"

She paces towards the window and turns around. "And then... to top it off, he left the Grandview to me if he dies! What do I need with a god damn casino, huh? Like I know how to run a fucking company!"

"He obviously cares, Lya, if he's trying to save you from fighting," Phoebe replies.

"It's not his damn choice to make!"

"So are we still sticking to the plan?" Toxic asks warily.

Lya sighs. "We don't have any choice do we? It's not like I know where he went or how to find him." She runs a hand through her hair. "This is about more than him and me and our pasts...this is about saving the world."

Klepto smiles wryly. "Spoken like a true scion."

The lock clicks and the door begins to open. It's too much to hope that it's Hitoshi, however, and Alex walks in on the somber moment.

"Uh-oh, what'd I miss?" he asks.

"Hitoshi went to confront Lyman," Phoebe said, frowning.

"By himself?"

"Yes, _by himself,"_ Lya fumed.

"Great," Alex said. "Anyway, I have Major Fremont ready to kick up enough of a fuss at the main entrance to the snow fort that we can climb down into the ravine, or whatever we're doing. Maybe that'll buy Hitoshi some time, as well as us."

He pulls a backpack off his shoulder and opens it.

"Lya, Evie, here are ballistic vests and magazine harnesses for you," he said. "Glock 19's, four extra magazines. I'll have a half-dozen more in a fanny pack."

"Returning the favor," Orithia said, presenting him with a longsword.

"Thanks," Alex said. "Wow, this is lighter than I'd thought."

Toxic hefted her own sword. "I agree. But you can see the quality of the blade."

"And this is his off-the-rack stuff," Orithia pointed out.

"You've got to love those warrior religions... they take their shit seriously," Toxic chuckles as she examines a sword.

"You guys can keep your swords... this is more my speed," Lya says as she picks up the Glock and tests its weight. "A little heavier than I am used to... but it shouldn't be a problem. Thanks, Alex." Lya sets the gun down and gestures to Klepto who starts to help her put on the vest.

"Let me give Arky a call to come up so we can go over the maps. I imagine the tunnels are still down there, so maybe he knows of a quieter way to get in than trying to cross the ravine."

"You could try asking Hrofgar... unofficially..." Phoebe suggests. "With that satchel of his from his All-Father he might be willing to help us cross the ravine."

"Well then... I think I need to make a phone call," Lya grins as Klepto finishes with the straps of the vest. Lya strikes a pose with her hand in her hair and on her hip. "What do you think? Am I the cover girl for Ammo Weekly or what?"

"Scion! The magazine of Girls, Guns, and Gods!" Alex laughed. "Wait. Hrofgar can ... teleport? Are there any limits?"

A quick call to Arky brings him to the room.

"Nice digs," he says.

"We're trying to get into the castle," Lya explained. "It's built overtop the storm drains and civil defense tunnels you used to shelter in. Is there another way in other than crossing the ravine on foot?"

"I've got the sunlight part down, but I can't fly through the sky like Dad yet," he admits. "Maybe some kind of sky-bridge, but that'll be hard to navigate in the cold, and that's a big drop if you lose your grip. I suppose you could see if the National Guard will do what they did in Vietnam, crash land a chopper in the middle of the yard."

"Um, no," said Alex. "Been in a chopper crash before."

"Oh, hell. Sorry, Alex."

"Don't apologize. It's not like I have a fear of flying, just a dislike of crashing into anything."

"Damn and here I was hoping to make an entrance on a flaming chariot," Lya replies sarcastically. "Any kind of bridge attempt would leave us out in the open, and I think Alex is the only one with experience jumping out of a helicopter... so unless we want to risk sneaking across that ravine, it looks like begging one more favor from Hrofgar will be our best bet."

Lya turns to Arky. "I was hoping to talk to everyone down in the lobby before we go tonight. Do you think Father Daniel will freak if I tell people who I really am?"

"Once more unto the breach, eh, cus?" Arky smiles as he squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.

"I never imagined I'd end up playing a hero in this story, Arky... but we all have to play out the roles we've been given," Lya replies with a crooked smile. "I guess... if this is my last hurrah and all... I just want to be able to leave everybody with what hope I can give."

"You and Pandora would make quite a pair," Arky replies as he pulls her in for a hug.

"Major Fremont seemed to know who we all are," Alex said. "Maybe not our parentage, but that we're all the children of the gods. I suppose some of that is my fault, but there was no hiding from that last attack at the Convention Center. People are guessing that anyone I 'hang out' with are the same."

"Daniel and I have had some ... extensive philosophical discussions," Arky said. "Even the more devout folks in his congregation are looking for hope. I'd rather they find it with their god, or with someone on our side, than have it all ripped away by the Titans. Frost giants. Whomever the villains are on your side, Alex."

"Loki. Prince of Lies and, in some accounts, having a knack for burning things," Evie said. "Then Fenris, whom we haven't met. So far, we've only run into Loki's boy and Fenris' daughters, I think."

"Oh, go ahead and call them bitches," Alex said. "Soleil is not a nice girl, and there won't be any Spy-Who-Loved-Me nonsense."

"We didn't learn who Douglas Maxwell's divine parent was, did we?" Evie added.

"I don't think so."

"Heck, we don't even know what abilities he had since Hitoshi went and killed him before he took off," Lya adds with a frown. "Somebody on their side has to have some shape-changing illusion thing going on though, if they were able to make themselves look like Colonel Ellison. Something to keep in mind since these guys seem to be masters of manipulation."

"A rogue nuclear weapon isn't just a threat to Asgard," Alex said. "It'd be a threat to any locale, divine or mortal. World governments aren't going to bet the house on a bunch of supposed children-of-the-gods, even if we are demonstrating abilities they can't explain. Even if they did, they'd still be thinking in terms of conventional war, not staring down a legion of Einjehar, Jotunblut thralls, and Frost Giants. What are they going to do when scions and gods start really kicking ass?"

"We have to do our best to keep the military focused on defending the people and keep this from turning into a right out clusterfuck of epic proportions," Lya sighs. "Hell, I'm surprised they haven't launched their _own _missiles at the castle already, honestly."

She shudders and takes a drink. "Can you even imagine the kind of response they'd have if Lyman had succeeded in getting and firing that warhead? It'd be the start of World War _fucking_ Three out there. Thank the Gods we stopped that one and they're keeping the incident under wraps."

Evie runs a hand through her still messy hair, "All we can do, at this point, is hope that we can successfully storm the castle." She laughs before doing her best Miracle Max voice, "It'll take a miracle!"

She smiles and continues, "With everything that Alex has acquired for us and what we got from Hrojar, I think we're about as well equipped as we're going to get. And, you know what? We _kick ass_. We can do this."

"And, with a bit of luck, maybe what Hitoshi is doing will work in our favor. I'm right there with ya in that it was damn fool move...but...if he kicks up a fuss inside, then maybe the enemy will think that we are all there with him. Between the military and Hitoshi, maybe they won't be watching that anchor."

"That's my only consolation in this... the hope that just maybe Hitoshi will be able to keep Lyman off our backs long enough for us to do this," Lya sighs.

"Alex, I know you've already revealed yourself to the military... but I wanted to let you guys know that I plan on giving a little speech to the people down in the lobby before we go. I want to tell them who I am and what we're about to do... you know... so they can write those epic stories about our exploits," Lya continues with a wink. "Whether you guys want to say anything or not I'll leave up to you though."

"Never ruin a good summation by insisting on speaking afterwards," Alex smiles. "I think my secret's out, as it were. Reporters and cameras were right there when one of Lyman's Jotunblut thralls shot me. The best someone can do is claim 'Photoshop!'"

"Eh, I'm no good at that sort of thing," Evie waves off the offer to speak. "I'd just stand up there like a deer in headlights until somebody yanked me off the stage."

"Besides, I don't like the attention," she admits. "I don't know why, but it makes me uncomfortable. I'm happier just hanging out and letting you guys stand in the spotlight."

"Do you want me to mention you're heritage, though? If not, I have no problem making it just about me," Lya asks as Toxic does her best to hold back a laugh and Klepto elbows her in the ribs.

"Lady, I will happily let you snag all my glory!" Evie laughs and throws a companionable arm around Lya's shoulders, giving her a hug. "Besides, I'm more dangerous when people aren't paying me any mind." She grins.

The detective steps away and smiles, saying in a more serious tone, "Really. As much as I appreciate the offer of including me, I think it's best if I'm left to the background. If people are aware that I'm there and watching..._always watching_...then they are less likely to make a mistake that I will catch."

"Good point," Lya chuckles. "So..." she claps her hands together as she looks to the others. "Who's for getting a decent meal before we do this, eh? Who knows how long it's going to be before we get another chance once we get going."

"Yes! Food!" Evie says enthusiastically. "If we end up stranded in some frozen wasteland after we pull off this caper, I want to be facing frost giants with my belleh full of meat. Because that's what Vikings do. I think. I'm not sure, but I'm running with it."

"Soldiers always grab sleep and food whenever they can," Alex said. "I'd guess that Karen Ryder has the kitchens turning out something, though it might be pretty basic." 


	31. Storming the Castle

(Lya, Alex, Evie - Dinner)

Karen Ryder had set one of the restaurants up to serve as dining hall. Dinner was a cup of soup followed by a Salisbury steak, with rice pilaf and vegetable medley.

"Dine in, or take this back upstairs?" Alex asked.

"No housekeeping," Evie reminded him. "A table in the corner will be quiet enough."

"Works for us," Toxic said. "We're lucky to have even this respite."

Lya nodded towards a booth in the corner. "Over there looks good."

"Oh, wow!" a voice exclaimed. "You're him!"

Klepto coughed. Orithia hid a smirk.

"You're famous, Alex," Phoebe laughed.

A young boy, perhaps all of 8 or 9 years old, stood looking up at Alex. The reason for the adoration was clear - the boy was wearing a jersey with a hammer-wielding Thor charging off the pages of a comic book.

"You got me," Alex said, kindly. "How did you know?"

"They keep showing it on the TV screens," came the answer. "My parents don't think it's real."  
"It's real," Alex told him. "But it's not like the comic books. We're ... well, we're more like the police and firefighters, working to make sure everyone else is safe."

"I want to do that when I grow up!"

"Be a super-hero?" Alex smiled.

"No, be like you! A sonneteer!"

"Okay," Alex said. He considered for a moment. "Hand over your heart. Repeat after me."

The young man placed his hand over his heart and snapped to attention. Alex was aware the young man's parents were watching, perhaps a bit wary that their son would be whisked away on some storybook adventure.

"I promise to never act in anger and avoid those who would encourage me to be false," Alex began, calling to mind Tennyson's _Idylls of the King,_ correcting some of the language and withholding references to King Arthur. "I promise to never be cruel, but to give mercy to those who asks for mercy."

The young boy repeated the words.

"I will always do women honor and grace. I will not fight in a wrongful quarrel over any law, prize or possession. I will seek to redress wrongs, to speak no ill of others or listen to it, and to honor my word as if those of my God."

The boy finished the oath. His father was still looking concerned, but the mother smiled, her own concerns allayed.

"Listen to your parents, and do your best in school and in all things," Alex told him. "Now, your mother has an ice-cream cone for you."

The boy accepted the treat. Alex introduced himself to his parents, explaining where he'd gotten the words. The father nodded, understanding that Alex wasn't about to enlist or claim his son. Alex took his seat at the table.

Phoebe reached out and gave him a handclasp. "That was nobly done, Alex."

"You're becoming a Norse rock star, Alex," Lya chuckles. "Better watch out or they might start getting jealous." She takes a bite of her food and ponders for a moment. "What's the Norse version of Aphrodite, anyway? Do you guys have a goddess who's all about the adoration and the spotlight and gets jealous of everyone?"

"You mean _other_ than Loki?" Evie replies sarcastically.

Lya coughs as she laughs while trying to swallow her food and quickly grabs a drink to wash it down. "You got me good with that one," she tells Evie as Orithia pats Lya on the back.

"You going to live there, hon?"

"It'll take more than a zinger to bring me down," Lya laughs with a thumbs up gesture to let everyone know she's ok.

"I think Freyja is our Goddess of Beauty," Alex said. "Well, at least some of the Jotun think so, according to legend. They're always trying to wed her or bed her. And, of course, Loki is usually involved somehow."

He looks at his plate.

"I understand things are being rationed, and this is still a generous portion," Alex said. "It's not making a dent. Maybe I need a mug of mead or something."

"We need to get you a few Guinness, Alex," Lya chuckles. "Loaf of bread in every bottle, you know."

"Remember when we had to make that lemongrass and rock soup when we fought on the border of Scythia?" Orithia asks Klepto as she nudges her with her elbow.

"Gods don't remind me..." Klepto groans. "This is a banquet in comparison."

"Hey, I did my best!" Toxic snarls. "Be glad I managed to make it taste like something other than warm water."

"Nothing like a warm tummy before saving the world," Lya comments as she grabs a piece of bread to soak up her soup.

"So it looks like we're pretty set when it comes to weapons and armor... is there anything else we should be packing? I realize we need to keep it relatively light and all... but we should try to be prepared best we can if we're not able to make it back here any time soon, you know?"

"I can see what I can obtain for a medical kit," Phoebe offers. "We may have to improvise considering the scarcity of supplies."

"Better than nothing when you're bleeding on the battlefield," says Toxic.

"Maybe I can scrounge up some protein bars and bottled water..." Klepto offers.

"Excellent. I need to refill my flask and give Hrofgar one more call to see if he can help us with our transportation issues before I go talk to everyone."

"There's also Baldur," Evie offers after she swallows a mouthful of steak. "He's all about innocence and joy. So, I guess you could kind of wrap love up in that, but I don't think it's officially part of his domain."

Evie glances at Alex, seeming to think of something. The corners of her lips twitch upward as she looks around their little table, and she starts to chortle softly. She clears her throat once and then starts to giggle.

"What?" Alex looks at her in confusion. "Do I have something on my face..?"

"You really are a rock star, Alex! Either that, or the main character from one of those harem anime. Look at you, all surrounded by the ladies..." she pokes Alex good-naturedly in the shoulder then gestures to all of women at the table...Lya, the Furies, herself...and Alex, the lone male.

_"Harem_ girl?!" Toxic growls as Phoebe puts a calming hand on Toxic's fist clenched around a fork.

"She was just making a joke," Phoebe reassures her. "This would be a rather amusing sight to anyone who doesn't know our group."

"The enemy is perfectly welcome to focus all their attention on me," Alex laughed. "And while they're doing that, my 'harem' will be doing the 'in your base, killing your peeps' thing."

Evie looks to Toxic and shakes her head, putting up her hands in a calming gesture. She smiles and says, "It's just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it. I mean, have you ever _seen_ a harem anime? They are utterly ridiculous!"

"I certainly didn't mean to imply that you or any of us (including myself) were actually anything like harem girls. I was just looking at it from the viewpoint of someone outside our group looking in."

"We've seen you in battle, Evie... we know your true nature and can glean your actual intentions," Phoebe replies with a gentle smile. "It's just..."

"Old habits are hard to break," Toxic finishes with an apologetic grin.

Lya raises her glass that looks suspiciously unlike the water the others are drinking. "Well then... let's hear it for the warrior women in our lives! Unbreakable spirit..."

"Stout of heart..." Klepto adds as she raises her glass.

"Sharp in focus," Evie offers as she holds up her water.

"Compassionate in nature," says Phoebe.

"And strong in body," Toxic finishes.

"Hear, hear!" Alex says as he clinks his glass with the others and they all take a drink.

"Lya, you can name names as far as I'm concerned," Alex says. "If an eight year-old kid knows who I am, my secret's out."

"Much as I appreciate it, you were already going to be my prime example of us existing after your heroic moment caught on TV for everyone to see," Lya replies with a chuckle and a slap to his back. "If we live through this mess I think _all_ our lives are going to be different from here on in."

"Just as long as it's not like that _Star Trek_ episode where the natives start asking Picard to raise their dead," Alex said. "I mean, I can see ghosts, like Evie. And I can release Einjehar the way Valeria did. Anything else is just a crazy-ass guess."

"We'll make a deal... you don't tell everyone I can heal the sick and wounded, and I won't tell everyone you're the next John Edward," Lya snorts while cutting another piece of steak.

"Deal," Alex smiled. "Not sure I want to poach more of Hel's territory, anyway."

Lya sits back with a satisfied grunt and pats her belly. "Looks like you've got a bigger stomach than I do, Alex. It's time for that after-dinner smoke while I go and give Hrofgar a call about that satchel of his and think on things while I let my food digest. "

She pushes her plate forward and scoots her chair back from the table before standing up. "I suggest we all meet back in the main lobby in 30. Once I'm done with my speech we'll head back up to the room and get our gear so we can hopefully take off from there with no one the wiser."

"Casino floor is still running, right? I'm going to play some blackjack, otherwise I'll start over-thinking this," Alex said. "See you all in thirty."

Evie knows that she should take this time to relax, but she can't quite bring herself to just _let it go_ for a few minutes. "I'm going to go hang out in the back of the crowd while you speak, Lya. I just...I need to keep an eye on things." She laughs lightly at herself as she pushes her chair back and stands. "I blame Dad's genetics."

Her thoughts turn back to the fact that they might have an illusionist or shapechanger still running around in the casino. It could be that Maxwell was the culprit and he's out of the equation, thus all is most likely well. Or, it could be Heti is the one and she's still somewhere. Maybe here, maybe not here. Or, heck, it could be someone that the group isn't even aware of!

At any rate, Evie is determined to keep a watchful eye upon her friends.

Alex went to the cashier's cage and bought $100 of chips, adequate for spending 30 minutes at a $5 table. He sat down at one where the dealer was waiting, a patient smile on her face and a fan of cards before her.

"On leave?" she asked, noticing his battle dress utilities.

"Sort of, I guess," Alex said, realizing they'd given him utilities complete with a nametape and black insignia. The Guard, of course, recognized his rank as a matter of respect; he hoped he hadn't been re-activated in some way.

"My boyfriend's in the Army, like you," she said. "Eighteen. House has seventeen. Player wins."  
Alex felt a moment of unease. He'd asked Major Fremont to make a push, and that would bring both Asatru like Jensen and Bjornsson into the fight, but other soldiers who would be fighting in the End Times of a religion not their own.

"The staff was told about what's going on," he said. "What do you think about it?"

The dealer slid another hand out of the shoe, marshaling her thoughts behind the ritual motions of her trade.

"You're one of them, then," she said quietly. "God of War?"

Alex glanced at his cards, tapped them to indicate a hit.

"My father is. I seem to have a penchant for Justice," Alex admitted. He tapped his cards again, went bust.

"I was raised Catholic," the dealer told him. "Why can't other religions be true? What you believe doesn't change what I believe, does it?"

"Not at all. I'm Catholic by upbringing myself, actually," Alex told her. "Our beliefs are part of what we are. _Who_ we are. We're all children of the gods in some way. What matters is that there are those - the Titans, the Frost Giants, whatever - who see it differently. I'm fighting - the rest of us are fighting - because we believe our path is the right one. It's no different from serving in the Army. Preserve, uphold, and defend."

"I'm not scared as much as I am worried," she said.

"Can't win if you don't play," Alex said, tapping the table.

"That's true."

Lya, Toxic and Orithia make their way back up to the penthouse after their dinner, while Klepto heads to the kitchens and Phoebe looks to scrounge up a medical kit between hotel services and the small convenience stores in the lobby area. Toxic checks over the weapons they'd gathered from Hrofgar with a discerning eye, making sure all the blades are sharp while Orithia sits down with the armor and goes over all the straps and joints with proper care.

"I trust you guys with knowing what you're doing," Lya says as she pulls a clove cigarette from her pack in her coat pocket and grabs her staff. "I'm going to sit on the balcony for a minute while I clear my head a bit."

"You OK?" asks Toxic with a slight look of concern over her shoulder.

"Yeah... it's just, so much stuff has been happening, you know? If I can just relax for five minutes maybe I can give my mind a chance to catch up. Soon as I'm done I'll give Hrofgar that call."

With that she wraps her trench about her and lights her cigarette with a flick of her Zippo before opening up the balcony door a crack and slipping through onto the balcony in the cold night air.

"Hera's tits it's cold!" she mumbles to herself as she leans on her cane and gazes in the distance at the military encampments and spotlights pointed at Lyman's castle.

She takes a long puff of her cigarette and blows it out slowly through her nose. "So lets see... we've got Jason Lyman and the Fenris twins seemingly looking to bring about Ragnarok and kill the sons of Tyr... which kind of makes sense in a revenge way considering the fate of their daddies and all. Except it's more than that... as they build their power base here on Earth and look to outright destroy Asgard itself with missiles or whatever else they can get their hands on. So... they try to bring about Ragnarok in order to free their dads from their punishment, and then destroy Asgard out of revenge?"

She takes another drag of her cigarette. "But what about the other players? Whose kin was Maxwell? Were others on Lyman's list Scions? If they're all Norse their motivations would fit with the revenge thing... but what if they're not? Is he bribing them with power here on Earth for their help?"

"I can't help but feel like there's still a piece I'm missing that could make everything clear," she groans as she kicks at a pile of snow with her boot in frustration.

"All right, Dad..." she begins as she folds her coat under her and sits cross-legged on the balcony."If you ever saw fit to lend me your ear and give me a bit of guidance, now would be a great time." She lays the staff across her legs and takes another long drag off the cigarette before flicking it adroitly into the butt can in the corner.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she runs her fingers softly across the staff as the wooden carvings of vines begin to twist and curl in a movement of their own...

The others move off to either kill some time or make last minute preparations, leaving Evie to her own devices before Lya's speech. With nothing much else to do, she begins circulating about the casino, keeping one eye on Alex and the other on...well...everyone else.

However, her mind strays to other things even as she patrols. More personal things.

_Should I call home? Should I call Saul?_ she ponders. Her hand strays down into her pocket as she walks, lightly touching the communication device.

She watches a few people who are mingling about. Here, a family goes over to a table that has been set up to cater to children, teaching the young ones to play things like rummy and spades. Evie smiles as she watches a youngster whose hands are still too small to comfortably handle cards try to wrangle them into order. Her eyes continue across the room and she spies a couple sitting with their shoulders touching, speaking in low tones with concerned looks upon their faces.

_No,_ she finally thinks to herself with a heavy sigh. _It's too dangerous to them._

As much as she wants to check on them, to make sure that they are okay and to let them know that she is alive, there's too much risk in that simple action. What if the enemy is watching her family and friends? If she reaches out to them, then it gives the enemy a reason to think that, perhaps, they have information that could help them.

Besides, what would be the point, anyway? The group is headed into the castle shortly. While Evie sincerely hopes that they are able to pull this off, the reality is that any or all of them could die, tonight. Why call to say she's okay when, in a few hours, she may not?

The detective shrugs to herself and tosses the thoughts aside, for now. Best to focus on the here and now and worry about such things if they are successful.

_If I come back alive, then I can call them,_ she thinks. _Until then, I have a shadow to watch for._

A whirring sound isn't quite what you expected to hear. Pop ... pop ... pop. click ...

"Rouge dix-sept ans! Red 17!" calls the croupier, sliding a stack of gold coins towards you. "Placer vos paris, place your bets, ladies and gentlemen ..."

A chill whisper of air hits you just so between the shoulder blades.

"Hera's tits, that's cold!" you complain, noticing that some inconsiderate lout is lingering by the casino's main doors, letting in the cool night air. But this isn't the Westview Grand, or any of the other resorts on the Strip. The decor hearkens to ancient Greece, Doric columns, climbing vines, laurel wreaths ...

... flashing red lights and a cacophony of blaring sirens and explosions sounds. You turn to see a young man standing before an oversized slot machine with a blazing neon marquee reading _End of Days._ The display is locked on five golden disks with red triangles radiating outward, stylized renditions of the symbol for nuclear radiation.

An emcee steps forward and lifts the young man's arm as if crowning the winner of a prize fight.  
"Welcome to the Winners' Circle!" he calls out, gesturing towards framed photos of past winners. They are faces you feel you should recognize, though you've never met them: Soleil Hunter, Selene Chase, Douglas Maxwell, Edward McCain, James Asano ...

The young man turns away from the machine, smiling and raising his arms in victory. Hitoshi. Yes, Hitoshi Ryder, though this is a man without certain cares. He doesn't look like the CEO of a major resort. He looks ... innocent. Perhaps a bit overwhelmed, as he is greeted by a young woman whose visage shifts from one moment to the next. They embrace and congratulate each other.  
"That's quite a future you've just unlocked!" smiles the emcee ...

"Somehow, I don't think it's going to be all sunshine and roses," says someone. "Come on, cousin. Let's dance."

It is Russ Keller, Arky, who leads you onto a ballroom floor that wasn't there a moment ago. He is in a white tuxedo, you in a plum-colored cheongsam. It is an elegant waltz that turns to something harsher.

_ I forgive the ones who hurt me, but I won't forget your name ..._

The lyrics burn in your thoughts and your blood. Arky is gone, and you are spinning to face an opponent, your pistol barking once, twice. A flower of blood blossoms upon the man's white shirt.

"I seem to have ... underestimated you," Jason Lyman says, falling backwards into shadows that engulf him even as something else stirs in their depths. Feral eyes. An intimation of slavering fangs and rending claws. Something amorphous leaps at you ...

... and an American flag is falling, fluttering over a familiar sarcophagus bearing the likeness of Alex North. A stern-visaged officer lays his hand on the sarcophagus in farewell, and you realize it's the man's left hand - his right sleeve is folded over. Tyr?

"... with the thanks of a grateful nation," a chaplain is saying, handing the now-folded flag to a sobbing woman. Valeria, absent the glamours of her office, looks much smaller and frail.

"Wait!" someone shouts. Everyone turns to see Alex running towards the tableau. "I'm not dead! I'm not!"

But your eyes are drawn to the hillock just beyond, where someone stands watching.

And, in the next moment, you are standing next to Evie Cartwright.

"Where have you been?" you ask.

"Watching," comes the answer. "As I always have. As I must. Asgard is just the beginning."

"The beginning of what? If you say, 'the end,' I swear I'll knock you upside the head!"

"You cannot see it from here," she tells you.

Suddenly, the ground is receding, as if in that film you saw in grade school,_Powers of Ten._

You are standing upon Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge between Asgard and Midgard. Below, of course, is the Earth, the clouds swirling in time-lapse, the sun and moon whirling by.

You are not alone.

"We'll stop this," Toxic says. She is wearing silver armor, plate and scale, and fully armed for battle.  
"Or die trying," Hitoshi says. It's not the fresh-faced innocent you saw in the casino, but the shadow of a grim samurai lord.

"Dying's not all that bad," Alex chuckles. "It's quite liberating, actually."

A pressure in your palm reminds you of the coins you have been clutching throughout. Each one bears the outline of a country or countries - the United States, Russia, China, Japan, and Europe, and you understand this is where the Titans have their bets placed ...

"Fuck me..." Lya whispers as she awakens from the dream with a jolt. She opens the balcony door and stumbles in with cane in hand towards the bed where she grabs a pad of paper and quickly starts writing down what she saw with a shaking hand before it fades from memory. With the other hand she grabs another cigarette and after a few aborted attempts with the Zippo manages to light her cigarette.

"Lya... what's going on?" Orithia asks worriedly as she sits on the bed next to Lya. Toxic quickly closes the balcony door to keep the cold air from getting in.

"I... I think..." she mutters before taking a shaky drag of her cigarette. "Hitoshi has gone into the lion's den thinking killing Lyman will end this... but it _won't._ Lyman is just another pawn to Fenris. Soleil Hunter, Selene Chase, Douglas Maxwell, Edward McCain, James Asano... they may think they're getting revenge on the gods... but to Fenris, it's just getting them out of the way of his _true_ purpose: _total annihilation of everything._ This time around he's got his claws in the major nuclear capable countries on this planet to make sure it happens!"

"Gods protect us..." Toxic whispers as Orithia moves to the bar and quickly pours Lya a stiff drink.

"Thanks," Lya whispers before taking the drink and downing it.

"We knew this was going to get bad, Lya... you have to remain strong!" Orithia wraps an arm around Lya's shoulders and gives her a hug. "The plan is still good... if we can stop them from destroying Asgard, then the gods will still be able to fight this evil and we can give this world a chance."

"I know we have to stick to the plan... it's the only one we've got, right?" Lya replies with a weak smile. "Seeing those things... it shook me hard. I kept telling myself that Hitoshi was strong enough to survive this... but now, I'm afraid he's just going to meet his doom."

"If the gods are with us, we will meet again... whether it's in this life, or the next," Toxic says as she sits on the bed across from Lya. "Is that all you saw?"

_I think Alex and I need to have a talk..._

"Yeah... that was about it... there's some things about Hitoshi I've got to work out though."

After two beers and three cigarettes Lya takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "OK... the world isn't going to wait for me to deal with my problems," she tells herself before grabbing her phone and swiping it open to call Hrofgar.

"I just hope he's willing to help... because I'm really not in the mood to go rock climbing."

"Lya!" Hrofgar bellows into the phone. "I don't care if you're from a different pantheon, you're an absolute goddess!"

The hollowness of the call tells you he's at the salvage yard. Clearly, he's seen the sarcophagus, and is quite satisfied with the trade.

"Glorious," he says. "Even if it was made by the Alfar."

He pauses for a long moment. At first, you wonder if the connection dropped, but it's still good.  
"Let me guess," he sighs. "You want to talk about getting into the keep."

Before you can sketch things out for him, he interrupts.

"I'll do it, of course," he says. "But it's not _quiet_. Heimdall will see it, of course, but so will anyone who's attuned to magic or psychopop, whatever the All-Father calls it. You ready to go now, or can I run this sweet thing back to my workshop?"

"Not yet I'm not," Lya chuckles in reply. "Glad you can get some use out of it, Hrofgar." She leans forward with her elbows on her knees as she pinches the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "I trust Heimdall to look out for his daughter... but we're going to just have to take our chances, Hrofgar. With any luck they're going to be spread thin trying to take care of everything going down tonight. I've got to gather the guys and say my goodbyes to everybody... so you've got time to run things back to your shop. Meet us back in the room in 30. And Hrofgar... if we should be lucky enough to meet again after this mess... I owe you a bottle of my best."

"See you in thirty, then," he says. There's a chortle before the connection ends. "Come to papa!"

Lya hangs up the phone and looks to Toxic and Orithia. "All right then... we've got 30 minutes for final prep and then we're all going to meet back here for transport."

"I'll check with Klepto and we'll get the rations packed and start arming up," Toxic says.

"I'll get with Phoebe and we'll get that med kit too," adds Orithia.

"I'll get the gang, and after I give my little speech we'll get this show on the road," Lya finishes with a weak smile.

"Hey..." Toxic puts a hand on Lya's shoulder as she looks her in the eyes. "Remember who you are... trust in your power... and be who you were born to be."

Lya's answering smile reaches her eyes as she nods. "We can do this."

Together they turn and head out the door towards the lobby... with Lya making a quick glance in the mirror and running her hands through her unruly hair on the way.

The game floor is generally not a good place to spot someone, but it helps when the floor is mostly empty, and Alex is wearing desert digital-pattern camo in the middle of an urban setting.

Perhaps encouraged by your vision, you see Alex differently than you had earlier this evening. Before, he wasn't much more than a suit - handsome enough, with an understated athleticism, but now?

The word _solid_ comes to mind. Power embodied in a steadfast mien. The bouncer who stops a troublemaker cold with The Look. The police officer of yesteryear, an authority figure you could trust to be fair and stand between you and harm.

He sees you and waves, getting up from the table. And the 'vibe' you've been sensing abruptly changes. Not in what Alex embodies, but in what follows ... a wave of Death, as unflinching and unyielding as the aspect of Justice he radiates. Harsh, but fair. You wonder if Alex senses any of it.

"Ready?" he asks. "I wish we knew more about what Hitoshi was planning. I'd hate to preside over his death."

A casual remark, but given what you saw in your vision, and just now, one that sends a chill down your spine ...

Lya smiles weakly as she joins Alex on the lobby floor. "Yeah... about that..." she runs a hand through her hair. "When I was upstairs having a smoke I kind of had a vision of sorts, and all of us were in it. Hitoshi was winning at a slot machine with coins labeled United States, Russia, China, Japan, and Europe when it came up all nuclear radiation symbols and he took his place among the winners with Douglas Maxwell, Edward McCain, James Asano and the Fenris twins. I shot Lyman, but he turned into Fenris and attacked me. Evie told me Asgard was just the beginning of something we can't see yet... and you..."

She takes out a cigarette and lights it. "You were telling everyone you weren't really dead while Tyr presided at your military funeral." She takes a long drag and exhales. "Tell me, Alex... how have you been feeling after we got you back?"

"I ... you know, apart from not really remembering how I wound up a prisoner being guarded by a troll, I feel fine," he says. He considers a moment, then says to himself, "No. That can't be, can it?"

You wait patiently, though it's not really your style.

"Lyman blew my house up," he says. "When I run into the dwarf, Hrofgar, he tells me _she_ wants to see me. Hel. Goddess of the Underworld."

Alex goes a little pale.

"How'd I get into her realm if I'm not _dead?_" he asks. "Shit. I can't ... I'm not_dead,_ am I? Walking, talking, thinking, breathing. But so do the guys in Valhalla. Damn it, I wish I knew where Val was, she'd be able to tell."

"But if I start turning moldy and gross, just put a bullet in my head, 'kay?"

"I don't think it'll come to that... but just in case, you've got my word," Lya says as she leans over to an ash tray and taps her cigarette. "When death appears as symbolism it isn't always so literal though. I think it's more about change, you know? Out with the old Alex, in with the new... that kind of thing."

She looks Alex over with a discerning eye as the ring on her hand radiates comfortable warmth up her arm. "Yeah... other than needing some decent sleep, you seem to be in fine health, Alex. You're just..._different..._ and I think it's something you need to think about and come to terms with. You know... before somebody makes the decision for you."

She chuckles as she stubs the cigarette out in the ash tray. "Not exactly the pep talk you want to hear before a big battle, I know... but I figured you should know what I saw. I didn't share it with anyone else... this is something only you can do for yourself."

She sighs. "Anyway... time for my farewell speech." Grabbing her phone she sends a quick text to Evie: _Getting ready for speech on the balcony... you can join us or watch from the crowd. Heading up to room to meet Hrofgar after._

She then gives Arky a call. "Cousin... if you could be so kind to rally the people into the lobby area, I'd like to say my peace before we make our final push against the castle." 

As she orbits the casino in a lazy, watchful circle, Evie notices Lya sit down with Alex. However, she doesn't approach. If they need her, they will signal. She just keeps on, keepin' on.

However, when Arky comes out to call the folks into the lobby, she follows and looks for a good spot to keep an eye on Lya and the surrounding area.

_I'll keep an eye on things. Since you'll be exposed on that balcony, I want to watch for snipers. I know the Furies got your back, but better to be safe,_ Evie texts back.

As people start to file into the lobby, Evie assesses the room, looking for likely spots that someone could strike from and still have a reasonable chance at escape. With one definite enemy unaccounted for, she's not willing to let down her guard.

(Evie)

It isn't until Lya lays hands upon Alex that you have a moment of concern that there is something serious to hand. Yet, Alex looks fine - he's taken quite a beating, after all. Still, burdens aren't always physical, as the department shrink would point out.

But then you see it. Whatever _it_ is, and if Lya picked up on _it,_ you can see why she's concerned.  
Alex moves, and - for an instant - you have an intimation of a flowing, hooded cloak and skeletal hands. You're almost afraid he'll turn to look at you, and you'll see only a skull staring back at you.

You know that both of you can see ghosts, but Alex seems to be extending or growing into deeper powers. What was it that he'd said? That he knew how to lay Einjehar, free them from being someone else's shock troops. It might be interesting to see what happens on the battlefield.

_Well, now,_ Evie thinks to herself, looking at Alex with new eyes. _I guess we'll find out exactly what kind of Alex we brought back with us from Hel's Happy Home._ She sighs softly, hoping that, for all their sakes, they chose well.

_As long as we save the world and the others get a happy ending, it'll all be good,_ she takes a deep breath and smiles. She's well aware that that is most likely naught but a nice dream, at least for the scions. But, hopefully, they will be able to deliver a happy ending to the rest of mankind, even if there is little chance that the combatants will come away unscathed.

Lya notices Arky leading people into the Lobby and nods to herself before she and Alex make their way up to the balcony overlooking the lobby. The butterflies in her stomach recede as she sees Klepto give a thumbs up and the rest of the Furies join her.

"Found some granola bars and bottled water, and Phoebe put together what she could from the hotel supplies for first aid," Klepto informs her.

"We thank the hotel for their kind donation of sheets to use as bandages," Phoebe replies with a slight smile.

"All the gear is packed, Lya," Orithia adds as she nods in greeting to Alex. "We're ready as we'll ever be."

Lya nods. "All right then." She then turns and walks to the edge of the balcony to look down at the lobby filling with the people clinging to the threads of their old lives and looking for hope and takes a deep breath before she begins...

"Welcome everyone, some of you may know me already, but for those who don't my name is Lya Bach and this is my band, The Furies. I know you've all been going through a scary, confusing time right now. Unexplained weather, Ice Giants, warrior spirits, you name it. Some more religious people might say it was the end times... and I'm here to say they're only _partially_ right. This isn't the time of the seven seals and pale riders, however... because there are more religions than Christianity on this Earth and believe it or not... ALL of them are real and looking for their turn."

As she speaks she feels the tingle of energy running through her that she normally would only get when using her staff and Toxic's words ring in her mind. _Remember who you are…_

"That thought might be upsetting to some of you, but hear me out. Last year I was just like all of you doing my best to live my life in a world that seemed to be circling the toilet. It wasn't till I met my father that I learned the truth... that I was a daughter of the Greek Gods and Dionysus had claimed me as one of his own. I learned it was my destiny to meet others like me who were born of the gods of our world... whether they be Norse, (she gestures to Alex) Japanese, Chinese, or Anglo Saxon... and it was up to us to save it from those who wish to bring about its end. It's just our luck that this time around it's not the End of Days... it's Ragnarok.

If you're with me so far you might be wondering "So what... she's going to get them drunk?" And you know if I thought it would work I'd be ordering a keg right now. What I AM going to do is refuse to give up on this world and fight for it to my last breath! Out there they are trying to wear you down with apathy and despair till you roll over and play dead so they can just walk over you and take our world from us... but I say they can go stuff their lies! I say there's something we we can ALL do... and that's _believe_ in each other..._help_ each other... and _know_ that as long as we keep hope alive there isn't a creature in the universe that can break us! Tonight we must come together as one voice and face the monsters that are at our door. Tonight we are canceling the apocalypse!"

She grips the balcony tight and struggles not to jump out of her skin as the Furies roar out in unison behind her. "EUAI! EUAI! EAUI!"

Evie smiles at Lya's words, fighting the urge to lift her fist and join in the chant. It's hard not to be inspired by her. Maybe, just maybe they will be able to pull this off. Maybe they can stop Fenris and his madness. Maybe things can be put back together and maybe...just _maybe_...this encounter with near disaster will bring people together, have them put aside their own pettiness to stand as one. Maybe. Just for a little while.

If Lya were beside her, right now, Evie would sweep her up in a hug and dance. Because...Lya.

The detective's eyes linger upon Lya for a moment. But, she sighs with hope and lets her gaze slide off of the Scion of Dionysus and on to the rest of the crowd, the shadows and corners where someone might hide.

Alex turns away from the crowd and whispers in Lya's ear.

"If that were a closing argument, you just put the jury in your corner," he says. "That was amazing. Look at them, it doesn't matter _what_ they believe: they simply do." 

"Let's just hope it's enough," Lya whispers back as she smiles and waves to the crowd before turning to face the others. "Now it's time for us to do our part and be big damn heroes."

"Have you ever been shot before?" Alex asks on the way back to the room.

"No, but she's sparred with each of us at one point or another," Orithia said. "We're her friends and protectors, but sometimes the best instructor is a nice thwack to the head."

"Sounds like my college fencing master*," Alex laughed. "First day, he holds up this busted foil and says, 'I am not Coach. This is Coach. Coach is always watching.' So, we're all like, right, whatever ... and then after a really weak parry, he hit me across my sword arm, right on the bicep. Hurt like hell."

"But you learned how to parry correctly, yes?" Toxic smiled.

"Oh, yeah."

Hrofgar is waiting in the room. "Odin's Beard, I should have given you a scythe, North."

"How's that?" Alex asked.

"Nobody's said anything?" the dwarf asked. "You've picked up a bit of an aura. You didn't have it the first time I saw you."

"What's it look like to you?" he asks, glancing at Lya.

"Kind of a out-of-the-corner-of-my-eye thing," the dwarf explained. "There, but not there. Just a glimpse, and a corner of your mind gets to gibbering in fear. I don't have to tell you it's like when Hel steps into the room."

"That's not going to interfere with transporting us to the snow fort, is it?" Alex asks.

"Nah. Unless Laufeyson is distorting reality, we should be good to go," Hrofgar waves dismissively. "Now, let's get the ladies armored up."

Hrofgar bustles about, inspecting the fit on the various pieces he provided.

"Hmph. That's a bit loose, let me punch another notch in the strap," he says, making the adjustment.

"Better," Klepto nods. "These gloves are perfect."

"We'll talk about custom kit if you survive this," he says. "I take care of my customers."

"Lya. Trauma plate set?" Alex asks. "Sorry. Don't mean to mother hen."

Lya smiles and slaps the front of her ballistic vest.

"Nay, nay," Hrofgar frowns. He pulls a small plate out of a pocket in his coat, strips of industrial-strength velcro from another. He pops the side straps, worms his hand inside the vest, and adds another piece of steel behind the kevlar. "There. Better coverage of your guts."

He looks over at Evie. "You, too, Heimdallsdottir."

"I think we're ready," says Lya.

"Weapons out," Alex says. He racks the slide on his pistol to chamber a round. "Form a circle around Hrofgar, he's our ride. Toxic, Klepto, Lya, Evie, Orithia, Phoebe, me."

"I did some scouting," Hrofgar said. "Standard castle design. I'm going to drop us in the middle of the courtyard. North, you'll be north. Drawbridge will be to the South, any outbuildings or doors will be northeast and northwest. Unless we come under fire from the start, I'm going to pop you in and then get the hell out of there." 

Lya bites her lip and glances at Alex in concern. "Alex... just remember... no matter what happens or who tries to claim you as theirs... you're still your own person... and what you do with those abilities is entirely up to you."

She then takes out her Glock and checks it as she slides it back to load. "Wounds heal..."

Toxic laughs and continues the quote. "Chicks dig scars..."

Klepto clangs her sword hilt against her shield. "Glory is forever!"

"And, remember that we're your friends. That's not going to change if Hel claims you. You are still you and we know that you'll use your powers fairly and wisely," Evie smiles and punches him in the shoulder companionably before readying her own weapon.

As she listens to Hrofgar describe the layout, she closes her eyes and mentally aligns the description with the coordinates she holds in her mind, trying to get her bearings now rather than when they pop in. She nods and says softly, "I think I got it."

With a grin, she opens her eyes and softly hums the theme to The A-Team...


	32. Anchor's Away!

**POP**

The first thing you hear is gunfire, and all of you flinch - until you realize it's coming from somewhere else, likely outside the castle.

"Sounds like the Guard are using their Bradley Fighting Vehicles," Alex says.

"Well, don't forget to write," Hrofgar says, vanishing.

Glancing around, you can see what looks to be general disarray. The lopsided remains of catapults are strewn across two nearby rooftops. But, from the outbuildings at ground level, two separate wedge formations of Einjehar come charging towards you.

The Furies quickly move in front of Lya with their shields raised.

"Evie!" Lya hisses urgently. "Figure out which way we need to go and then everyone follow my lead! We can't fight them in the open like this!"

Lya then places hands on Toxic and Klepto's shoulders and gently gestures them aside as she walks between them to address the Einjehar coming towards them with open arms.

"All hail the victorious dead!" she begins as she subtly gestures for the rest of the party to follow her. "Honor to the Soldier everywhere, who bravely bears his country's cause. Honor also to the citizen who cares for his brother in the field, and serves, as he best can, the same cause - honor to him, only less than to him, who braves, for the common good, the storms of heaven and the storms of battle."

As the Einherjar all move closer they hear Lya's words and slowly come to a halt as they lower their weapons. Lya continues walking towards them (and the two exits from this area) as she speaks, with the others following close behind with a wary look at the Einherjar who have stopped to listen.

"But let us not forget the families of our soldiers... those who are left behind to remember their sacrifices... the wives and husbands... the children who miss their parents, and the parents who miss their children. Honor those who carry on the fight... honor those who carry on their name."

As they walk past the Einherjar Lya gestures with her finger to the left and the right as she silently asks which way to go next

"Now let us all bow our heads in prayer and remember our loved ones that we left behind when we chose to fight this war..."

As soon as the Einherjar holster their guns and lower their heads Lya gestures for the others to get a move on in the direction they need to go and quickly follows behind down the hall as her voice continues to ring out.

"Concentrate on their faces... their smiles... the joy in their eyes when they realize you've stopped fighting long enough to come home to them again..."

Evie keeps quiet and lets Lya work her charm, even though her heart is racing at a million miles a minute. It's been a long time since she's been in direct combat, and that was getting shot at by gang members before she was promoted to detective. This? Well, this is pretty much nothing at all like that. Frankly, Evie is elated that Lya is able to calm the dead and that no fighting is required, right now.

Since she came into the situation already knowing their facing, thanks to their dwarven friend and ally, it only takes a moment's concentration for Evie to figure out where they need to go...or, at least, what direction they need to go. Once they are out of immediate danger, she'll need to glance at the maps to figure out an exact route. But, for now, a general direction is good enough.

Evie meets Lya's gaze and nods her head towards where they need to go.

As one of the SWAT guys put it, _Sometimes, you just gotta bust the door down._

"Left!" Evie whispers and motions to the others. "Go!"  
Alex nods and heads towards the indicated door, ignoring any of the Einjehar who are caught in Lya's verbal witchery. Phoebe and Orithia follow.  
Lya is next, still holding the dozen or so Einjehar in thrall. Toxic and Klepto turn and back towards the door, the Furies protecting Lya in a loose ring.  
And then Evie takes rear-guard, her pistol out and pointed up and to the side, her head and eyes sweeping the area as if she were clearing the kill house* at the Academy.

The corridor is wide enough that the Furies could close ranks and do a four-across shield wall. The castle itself is of classic medieval design, stone block and wood beam, but sparsely decorated. There are no adornments or paintings on the wall, but instead of torchlight and brazier, there are work lights strung upon the wall, suggesting this part of the castle is functional.  
You are in a kitchen, redolent with the aromas of food and drink. Lyman summoning more Einjehar, perhaps. The staff seems to ignore you for the most part, perhaps mistaking you for more of Lyman's army.

Alex holsters his gun, snatches a turkey leg from a platter and tears into it. He looks at one of the staff and makes the unmistakable gesture for something to drink, and is handed a mug of foamy ale.  
"Danke," he says. He winks at Lya and the others as he gestures with the turkey leg between bites, laughing and eating messily. He quaffs some of the ale, nods in approval, smiles at the staff.

A stairway in the corner must lead to the dining hall, while the rear of the kitchen seems to be a large pantry, though you can glimpse another hallway through an open door ...

"Hey," Lya smiles wide to get the attention of one of the staff as she holsters her gun. "I'm still kind of new here and the ritual has left me a bit shaky in the head, you know? Could one of you guys remind me where the stairs are?"

Evie stands to the side and awaits an answer to Lya's question. She doesn't feel any need to grab a turkey leg and chow down, though. Honestly, she's so nervous that her stomach is doing flip-flops all over the place. She's afraid that as soon as the greasy meat hit her stomach, she'd yak it back up. And that would be very un-Einjehar-like.

"Ja, ja," the servant points at a stairway leading up. "Libenshmittel. Der Kommandant."

She points down the hall. "Kasernen, Zellen."

Some of the words are obvious. 'Der Kommandant' has to be Lyman, of course. If Hitoshi has been through here, the kitchen staff doesn't seem to be aware of it.

"The anchor," Evie asks, gesturing vaguely. "Magic?"

"Das zauberstein," Alex translates. "Wo ist es?"

"Ach! Das zauberstein, ja!" the servant says, shaking her head. "Ist verboten."

"She says it's forbidden."

"Good to know," Lya smiles. "Still though... if we knew where it was, we'd know not to go in that direction, right? Wouldn't want to take a wrong turn and get in trouble just because we haven't learned where to go yet."

She chuckles and scratches at her temple as she gives them her best depreciating smile.

The servant shares a conspiratorial smile with you and beckons you towards one of the pantries. She points to a barrel, beneath which lay the corner of a trap door.

"Hintertur," she says, then bustles off.

"Back door, eh?" says Alex, setting down the turkey leg and mug. "Good idea."

He wrestles the barrel with some difficulty, exposing the door fully. It was probably a smuggler's passage or bolt hole in the past.

The first thing you notice, of course, is the smell. Dust and stale air ... and the feel of magic.

"Good thing I'm an overgrown Boy Scout," Alex mutters, shining a flashlight down into a wood-walled passage. It's shallow enough to drop into the passage from the edge of the trap door, and he does so.

You hear him cough.

"Pretty dusty down here," he says. "Pretty dark, too. Might want to bring a candle or torch."

Evie reaches into her jeans and pulls out her keyring. She has a small flashlight attached to the ring. Quickly, she slides it off the ring and shoves her keys back in her pocket. Having the keys out and free would probably create a bunch of jangly noise that would do no one any good.

Light in hand, she climbs down after Alex. Surprisingly, it turns out that it's not nearly as dark down here as he had led her to believe. The colors are a bit off, but she can see just fine. Of course, she can also see through snow so...perhaps this is just another facet of her gift.

"All right, Orithia, you and me next, then Lya, and Toxic and Phoebe can follow to the rear," Klepto takes command as she gestures to the others.

"Aye-aye, Captain," Lya replies as she follows the Furies into the passage and they disappear into the dark with the sounds of the barrel being pushed back into place behind them.

"Hold up a second," Lya calls out as she pulls out her Sharpie from her coat pocket and writes the kanji for "Exit" on the wall. "There... just in case we get lost down here," she mutters to herself before putting the marker back in her pocket.

"Good idea," Evie says quietly.

She pulls out her phone and pulls up the photos she took of the maps. She's not sure if this particular part of the tunnel is part of what the dwarves built, but it doesn't hurt to check. Especially since everything is quiet, right now. They may not get a chance to look at them again, later.

As far as Evie can tell, this tunnel is part of the castle that was transplanted _in toto_ from Asgard or wherever it is. Your progress is unhindered - this was clearly some form of bolt-hole.

You come to a t-intersection, one branch ending at a ladder leading up, and the other continuing onward, back towards the center of the castle.

Lya pulls out her sharpie again and writes the kanji for EXIT on the wall at the end of the hallway while she waits for Evie to pick a direction.

"This way," says Evie as she points towards the tunnel leading towards the center of the castle.

The party continues through the tunnel, which ends abruptly. A lever opens another secret door - this one a shelf in a storeroom. And while the room itself is unlit, there is a diffuse glow from somewhere else nearby.

A shadow passes before the door. A patrol of four Einjehar making their way down the corridor. You realize you either have to enter the corridor or turn back, so it's just a question of whether you enter loudly or quietly ...

Evie lifts a hand and motions the others to move back the way they came. Once she feels like everyone is far enough away that their whispers won't alert the patrolling einjehar, she says softly, "There's probably a way around if we backtrack. However, pussy-footin' is going to slow us down. I'd like to do this quietly _and_ quickly, if possible. Unfortunately, I don't have any quiet fighting skills. I can sneak, but I'm no ninja-assassin. How about you guys?"

"I think we're going to run into these guys no matter which way we go," Alex says. "We can be as quiet as possible, but that's about it. I'm not even sure a stranglehold would work on Einjehar, anyway."

Evie looks towards Lya questioningly.

"Once you go loud, you can't go back," Lya says. "Let's see how long we can last being quiet as possible... and when the shit hits the fan, we'll deal with it then."

Evie nods, "Sounds good." With that, she turns and makes her way back to the t-intersection, hoping that there is a way around.

(Evie)

As you make your way back along the passage, you find yourself paying closer attention to the texture of the wall, imagining things from the perspective of a castle occupant escaping from an invading force. Where would passages connect from and lead to?

You entered through the pantry. You've seen a ladder leading upward that could lead to a great hall, or to apartments for a lord-in-residence. What other locations could be useful? Access to an armory, perhaps. A library or chapel, though the latter would be dedicated to the Aesir.

And maybe a secondary route, in case one escape route was cut off.

"Look around, there's got to be more than just this ladder and the storeroom," you tell the others.

It takes nearly thirty minutes of running hands over boards, looking for invisible seams and hidden catches, but you find one leading to a narrow passage that you'll have to go single-file and sideways to get through. It must connect to an alternate route ...

The alternate route is somewhat less pleasant. Exploring to one end brings you to a guard room, a fortified position that might occupy an invading force long enough for the nobility to absent themselves.

The other end leads to a ladder that drops away to another passage - there would be no backtracking from that position.

"Well, Evie?" Lya whispers as she glances at the ladder. "You said the anchor was down from here... right?"

"Yup," Evie blows out a soft puff of air, making a quiet sound of dislike. "I'm not happy about this since we'll get trapped but...down is the direction we want to go."

She thinks for a second and shakes her head at herself, "And, we didn't bring rope, did we? Damn it. How many years have a played D&amp;D and I fail at remembering to bring a stupid, 50' rope?"

"Well how deep is it?" Toxic asks. "There's enough of us here that we can lower you all down if need be."

"Can you see anything down there, Evie?" Lya asks quietly.

Evie shines her light down into the tunnel, hoping that there is no one down there to see the beam. Of course, it's not a strong light, so it may go unnoticed. However, it's more than enough for her to see by. She eyeballs it, trying to judge the distance to the bottom.

From the ladder's end to the floor below isn't far - almost ten feet. It would be possible for someone to give another person a boost, but they would have to be able to make the upward jump themselves if you truly wanted to turn around.

There doesn't appear to be any activity below, but a faint sound reaches you. Dirt grinding beneath a boot heel as someone paces, perhaps standing guard.

And a coruscating blue glow...

Lya pulls a rubber band off her wrist and starts putting her hair back as Orithia looks at her questioningly.

"If there's a glow, that means I can see... and if I can see, I can shoot him," Lya whispers in reply as she quietly readies and cocks her gun. "If you hold on to me I should be able to poke my head in there and take him out."

"Upside down? Really?"

"The things you learn how to do when you're too lazy to turn the alarm off..." she chuckles softly.

"Well," Evie says slowy, considering. "You know...it's actually a good plan. With just her head and shoulders poking down from the ceiling, she's going to present a small target should she miss and get their attention. And, on top of that, their first instinct when returning fire will be to shoot low. No one is going to expect a dangling target."

"The problem comes in that if there is more than one guard and another exit, somewhere, the extra could charge off to bring reinforcements before we could get down and do our thing."

Evie thinks, "Maybe we should quietly drop down and go as a pair. If there is more than one guard, we need to take down both of them quickly."

"Care to take a peek first, Evie?" Lya asks. "If there's more than one down there we'll go with your suggestion."

"I would rather _we_ went," Klepto grumbles, "but silence is key here so I grudgingly agree."

Evie nods, "Okay, I'll see what I can see. I don't want to drop all the way down, though. If someone can help keep me from falling on my head, that would be awesome."

She chuckles softly, "That would be a heck of a way to wind up back in Hel's domain. 'Oh, how did you die? I threw myself headfirst down a hole. Valiantly.'"

"We've got you," Klepto assures Evie as she claps a hand on her shoulder. "When you are ready, I will make sure you don't fall."

She looks to Alex with a raised brow. "Unless the Son of Tyr would like to? As grating as it is, you are the strongest among us."

After a brief discussion as to methodology, Klepto and Orithia brace themselves within the ladderway to lower Evie down.

Evie is able to discern several guards - one is a towering hulk that looks like he should be on some football team's front four. He's the one that's pacing back and forth, leaning against the wall every few minutes.

Beyond him, two more guards are seated, their frames in relation to their chairs suggesting they're also American Gladiator rejects. One has their back to you, the other is reading a comic book. And because odd numbers are not SOP in your experience, there must be a fourth lurking just out of sight.  
All are wearing contemporary body armor and carrying submachine guns.

But it's what lies beyond that draws Evie's interest. The blue glow seems to emanate from a person, not an object. A figure is hung in mid-air, dangling from heavy chains, their head sunk to their chest. Tattered and blackened clothes suggest they have been tormented or otherwise abused (not a big stretch of the imagination, as you can't see anyone accepting such chains willingly).

Evie signals that she's seen enough and is ready to be lifted back up. As Evie relays what she saw below, everyone sets up for a repeat performance, this time with Lya.

"Sounds like I can get the one pacing the hall," she says. "Maybe one of the two at the table. Either of you have gifts that mess with people's heads?"

"No," Alex says. Evie shakes her head as well.

"We're going to pull you up at the first sign of trouble," Toxic says.

"Oh, come on. I'll be fine. It'll be fun," Lya says, winking.

Klepto and Orithia lower Lya into place. Alex trades a concerned glance with Toxic and Phoebe - all of them are ready to jump into the fray if this goes south.

Below, Lya takes a moment to assess her targets. Self-confidence aside, these aren't gang members stoked with bravado. These are trained mercenaries, their gear suggesting they are Jotunblut thralls with enhanced strength and stamina.

The one with the comic book appears to be reading _Wonder Woman,_ though a stack of other issues is sitting on the table nearby. The illustrated tales of the Amazon princess are always amusing and a guilty pleasure for the Furies. Diana is always open in her appeals to the gods, but it's not a helpless mortal pleading for mercy - it's a capable warrior setting a bar to challenge herself.

One of the few times she entreated with a god for something she didn't have was when the Joker had paralyzed her with some kind of toxin, and she asked Pan to teach her the ways of chaos, so she could slip those bonds.

_Well, Dad, is there anything like that in the family toolbox?_ she mused, lining up her shot on the comic reader. If he went down, the others would hopefully respond to their colleague first, and worry about an assailant second.

She lines up her pistol and lets out a breath to steady her hand.

_Exhale,_ she tells herself, remembering early archery lessons from Phoebe._ Let all the nervous energy and adrenalin flow outward. There's only the target, and your arrow. Shoot when you are ready._

The one with the comic book lowers it for a second, a puzzled look on his face, as if he heard a sound ...  
_Oh, shit,_ Lya thinks. _No, I didn't make a sound. Stay dumb, asshole. It's nothing. Go back to your comic book._

The man's brow furrows, but it's not in concentration ... it's in confusion. His eyes seem to glaze over. His lips twitch as if he's trying to say something, but only disjointed syllables come forth.

"What?" says the other man at the table. "Was zum?"

The first man is drooling. His eyes are frozen wide.

The second man raises his hands to his temples, mumuring, "Nein. Nein. Nein. Ne-"

_What the fuck?_ Lya thinks.

The third man steps over from the hallway and pauses at the table, glancing between his colleagues. And he, too, has some kind of seizure, his body jerking slightly ... and then he drops to his knees like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

There's a satisfying _klonk_ as his head bashes against the table, but it's loud enough to draw the attention of others. Several Einjehar charge into the room, guns drawn. One stops, his jaw falling slack. Another begins to drool and cry. The other two remain frozen in place, their weapons sliding from now-limp hands ...

It's been all of a handful of minutes. Lya isn't sure what she did, but the guards and an additional patrol have turned into mindless - and helpless - zombies.

_Um... thanks, Dad? Shit... I hope that was me... I mean that's fucking scary if I did that-that...whatever... but better me than the guy in chains, right?_ Lya thinks as she frantically taps to tell the others to let her up.

"What happened?" Evie asks as Lya gets set upright with a strange look on her face. "I didn't hear any guns go off."

"Yeah... um... I think something else happened," Lya mutters as she holsters her gun and rubs her head. "One of them was reading a Wonder Woman comic and I jokingly thought how nice it would be if Dad would help us like the gods did her... when...um...when..."

"Out with it, Lya!" urges Toxic impatiently.

"They all went nuts!" Lya exclaims with a wild look in her eyes. "The first one kind of glazed over and started drooling, and then the next one and the next... and then a bunch of them came in to check the noise and they started collapsing and crying...before you know it it's like a scene from a mental institution down there."

She shudders. "Anyway... I don't think they're going to bother us if we go down now. Heck... I don't think they even know who they are any more."

"Your father's wrath is none to be trifled with," Phoebe says as the other Furies nod in grim silence.

Lya gasps as a thought occurs to her. "The guards were fine until they saw the others... so maybe if you don't look, you guys should be ok. And I mean it... _don't look._ It's not really something you want to think about at night anyway... trust me. Let me go down first and then we can get these dudes out into the hallway so we can help their prisoner."

"Shit, yeah...no kidding," Evie says softly. If just looking at these guys can make them go insane, she doesn't want to take any chances. With her own heightened perception, would it affect her even more than the guards down there? Inwardly, she shudders, in no way wanting to find out.

"Just let me know when it's safe to come down. I'm afraid that with my gifts, I may be even more susceptible to whatever madness this is," she says.

Lya returns below, though without assistance, she won't be able to reach the ladder. The guards are still in a stuporous state, but have started to wander, so their motor functions aren't a total loss. Lya simply directs them down the other passages, hoping that whatever this is continues to be contagious.

After nearly twenty minutes - the catatonic doesn't move very quickly - Lya returns to the ladder way and gives the all clear. There is an assortment of supplies, but nothing essential or of immediate use to the party.

There is just the figure hanging from chains, a corona of magical energies swirling and pulsing about them. He appears to be wearing the remnants of a business suit, parts of which have been burnt away, though the flesh underneath does not seem to be damaged in any way.

_Shrinnnnng!_

Toxic suddenly draws her sword and advances on Alex, forcing him back against the wall. She's poised to drive the point through his throat.

"Whoa!" Alex says. "What th- Toxic, have you caught that crazy shit?"  
"Hardly," Toxic says.

The other Furies have their weapons drawn as well, moving into supporting positions. Toxic simply jerks her head in the direction of the chained prisoner.

"By Prometheus!" Orithia whispers.

Looking more closely, there is no mistaking the figure dangling from chains is an unconscious Alex North ...

"Woah... wait just a minute, guys," Lya exclaims as she holds up her hands. "If you remember we _did _have five different Alex North's to choose from once... so let's just see what's going on here before we start skewering anybody."

Toxic grunts in reply, but doesn't lower her sword.

"Just give me a minute," Lya pleads before walking over to look at the chained version of Alex North and checking over his wounds. (Assess Health) "Maybe if we ask him some questions we can figure out what's going on."

"What th..." Evie does a double take. She draws in a sharp breath, looking between the two Alexes. After a moment, she gets over her initial surprise and moves to stand between them, her gaze flitting from one to the other. Her eyes narrow as she looks for clues as to what is going on here.

How long does it look like Prisoner Alex has been chained? Is his skin chaffed? Does he have a beard? Is he thin? Basically, does he look like he's been a prisoner for 6 months.

"Lya...can you make heads or tells out of that magical aura around him?" she turns to the daughter of Dionysus, knowing she has better grasp of magical things than she does.

Alex-in-chains is uninjured, and you can see no reason for him being unconscious other than the power or magic or whatever that is swirling about him.

"Well damn... I can't figure out why he's not waking up right now," Lya mutters.

"There's always one way to find out if he's faking it," Orithia mutters as she turns around and throws a dagger that strikes the chained man in the right leg.

The dagger strikes true and slides deep into the chained man's thigh. The energies swirling around him limn the blade in cerulean light, and it glows white hot before vanishing.

The wound that remains heals quickly and cleanly.

"I hate to say it, but that doesn't prove anything," Alex says. "I got shot at the Convention Center, and I healed. It was even on TV."

He winces.

"But, if you gotta stab or cut me for proof, hey, we're friends, right?"

"I haven't stabbed you yet, Son of Tyr... if that's who you really are," Orithia mutters in reply. "I was hoping more than anything that it would wake him up."

"Dig what happened to the dagger though," Lya says in wonderment. "Did you see how it disappeared like that? Whether this is a part of Alex or not, I'd say it's definitely the anchor we've been looking for." She scratches her head. "But how do we destroy the anchor without hurting him or having whatever we try to use disappear?"

Lya then digs a quarter out of her pocket and flicks it towards the blue light to see if it follows suit like the dagger.

"Perhaps _he_ can explain it," Toxic growls as her grip tightens on her sword.

The quarter flies through the air as you'd expect. As it hits Alex-in-chains, it suddenly flashes bright white and disappears with a sizzle of torn air.

The other Alex swallows uncomfortably. "I honestly don't know. I'm Alex North. I feel like Alex North. I have my memories. That can't be me."

On the alert, now, for any signs of deceit, Evie watches the interactions with Our Alex carefully. Though he has been with them ever since Hel's domain and has acted in their best interests...well...this does complicate things. It's entirely possible that he's a double but completely unaware of the fact that he is...but why would Hel do that? Does she have a stake in Ragnarok?

Turning to Lya, she asks, "You wouldn't happen to have a mirror, would you? I'm wondering if the beam can be reflected or if it'll just vaporize the mirror, too."

"I don't have a mirror, but ..." Lya considers. "One of our shields, perhaps?"

"If I ..." Alex begins, then stops as the point of Toxic's sword nicks his throat. "If we - can I still say 'we'? - are going to stick anything in this beam that might get vaporized, I volunteer to do the sticking."

Lya sighs as she walks up and places a hand on Toxic's arm holding the sword. "Look Toxic... if he wasn't Alex, he could have done something plenty of times before now. I trust him, OK? He's Alex... he's just not the same Alex we started with, is all."

Lya smiles hopefully. "So just lower the sword and we can work this out."

Toxic's grip tightens on the sword as the warring thoughts flicker in her eyes... but eventually she lets out a huff and turns away from Alex with a muttered "Fine," but still keeps her sword unsheathed at her side.

"Look Alex..." Lya says to him as she places a hand on his chest and looks up at him. "I believe with all my heart that you are Alex North... our friend and comrade in arms. Thing is... when you disappeared and we had to go and find you so we could put you back together again, I think you came back changed. That Alex North..." she turns at the waist to point at the man hanging in chains before turning back to him, "that's what's left of the Alex we met before you disappeared. At least... that's what I believe him to be. I don't know if you two can merge together like your parts did in the Underworld or if you just have to face that the Son of Tyr is no more... because you are something _else_ now. That doesn't mean you aren't our friend though... and that I wouldn't be pissed if you got yourself killed... understand?"

She gestures to Phoebe who hands over her shield.

"Please...be careful."

"Wait! Don't use the shield. Just use the mirror. If something is going to vaporize...and I really feel like it will...I'd rather not lose a piece of important equipment," Evie says. "If it's a compact or one of those little, purse mirror things, you should be able to hold it by one edge and stick it in without too much trouble."

"I just...uggh!...I also don't want anyone to be vaporized. Give me a minute to think about this. There's got to be a way to do it where no one loses a finger, or hand, or entire person in trying this," Evie fidgets and frowns, trying to figure out the logistics. "This is a long shot and I don't think that it's going to work. So, I don't want to take big risks."

Evie glances around the room, looking for anything that might work as a arm. Something that they could strap the mirror to and allow them to poke it into the beam without having fingers get too close.

"Alex" hands you his gun, and gives his sword to Phoebe in exchange for her shield.

"If this works, you can give them back," he says. "If something weird happens, then you'll be a step ahead of me."

He hefts the shield. It's not polished to mirror-brightness, but it's solid. Alex slips his arm through the straps and takes a deep breath. He starts to move the shield towards the beam, hesitates.

"I can't," he breathes. "I want ... I need to be free."

Orithia grips Lya's arm. You've heard the words before, in another context.

"Oh, shit," Evie says, drawing her own gun. "It's him."

"Alex," Phoebe says. "You have to. You suggested it because you know it's the right thing to do."

"I'm not Alex," he says. "I never have been. I'm a body filled with impressions of the real thing."

He nods towards the unconscious form in chains. "That's your Alex, I think. Blowing up his ... our ... house gave Lyman time to do this, and Hel decided to have fun with what was left."

"Twisted bitch," said Klepto.

"What are we but bodies filled with memories and impressions?" Lya asks "Alex" as she shrugs off Orithia's hand.

"Lya, no!" exclaims Orithia.

Lya waves her hands at the others and steps up to "Alex" as he hesitates in front of the beam. "You may not be the _whole_ Alex, but you are still Alex... you hear me?" She jabs a finger into his chest. "You have always been a part of him and have been there through every decision he's made until that moment when he was kidnapped. You helped him make those hard decisions, whether it was on the battlefield or in the court room... and he's not the same without you. And you know what? You're not the same without_ him._" She jabs a finger towards the "Alex" in chains.

"If you wanted to be free, you would've run away as soon as you had the chance... but you _didn't_ because you're part of a man who _doesn't_ run away from a fight! You're part of a man who makes the hard decisions because it's the _right_ thing to do. Alex knows that the only way ANY of us are going to be free is if we stop Lyman and Fenris, and you know it too!"

She raises her hand to touch his cheek. "Please... without you, _none_ of us can be free."

Alex simply nods. He stares at his captive twin for a long moment, then braces and brings the shield over his twin's head, cutting off the flow of mystical whatever-the-fuck-it-is. And as before, energy begins to dance upon the metal of the shield, arcing and sizzling.

But that isn't all. Power flows from one to the other, from the soldier to the captive, pulses that fly through the air and slam into the unconscious man with considerable force, twisting him to and fro. And as they do, the soldier begins to look less like Alex North, and more like a charred shell.

The Burning Man.

"I'm not Alex North. I'm not even a part of him," he says. "He was never my prison. I was meant to be his, a crucible to remake him in my Mistress' image. Whatever your friend is made of, it is not something that is easily transformed. If anything, he has transformed me."

A final pulse wicks from the Burning Man, and you can see the process is not without its toll upon him. But he holds fast as the last pulse homes in on his chained twin.

Alex's eyes snap open. He meets the gaze of the Burning Man; there is a moment where it seems they recognize each other at an essential level.

"Hurry," says the Burning Man. The shield is beginning to glow.

Alex looks to the chains holding him and strains at one. It snaps. Dangling, he tears the other loose and drops to the ground.

"Beware Hel's wrath," the Burning Man says. He draws himself beneath the shield, which is barely recognizable. There is an implosion as it - and he - disappears.

"I gather there's a story, but this isn't the time or place to hear it," Alex says. "How do we get out of here?"

"Tomato, tomatoe..." Lya mutters as she rushes over to Alex and checks him for injuries.

"Well we could always go back the way we came if you're up for it, Alex."

Klepto and Toxic quickly sheath their swords and link hands as they stand under under the ladder and gesture to the others. "We'll give you a boost."

"Wait... does that mean he's...ohhhhh..." Evie says as the answer dawns on her and her eyes widen in surprise.

"Like he said, 'time and place," Lya replies. "If we can get to the courtyard again, maybe we can call Hrofgar and get him to pick us up. It's either that or making our way to the tunnels below the castle."

There's a grinding sound, and a bit of dust trickles down from the ceiling. And then an audible crack as part of the room shifts.

"Which way?" asks Alex. "Whichever one is closer!"

Evie closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath, locking in on her position as the numbers whirl within her head. To anyone without the gift, it would doubtless be a jumble - galactic coordinates mixed together with longitude and latitude, azimuth and altitude - but to her, it makes perfect sense.  
"Up!" she yells. "Back the way we came!"

They sprint to the ladder way and no time is wasted as the Furies see Lya and Evie safely topside, then begin assisting each other. Alex offers a clasped-hand stirrup to Toxic, who doesn't argue, but springs lightly off his hands and onto the ladder.

"Alex!" Phoebe yells as he disappears from sight. "ALEX!"

The table at which two of the guards had been sitting heaves into view. Alex jumps onto it, and then onto the ladder.

The grinding sound continues, and several of the beams shift...

Lya crouches against the side wall and whispers the words she hadn't had to utter since the fire that started this journey with Alex. "Έχω την αφή ... έχω τη δύναμη ... με όλα κόλαση να ξεσπάσει Θα είμαι στο μάτι του κυκλώνα."

As the last words leave her lips she feels the warmth of the staff strapped to her back as the runes begin to glow... and suddenly all seems clear when she looks at the rumbling walls. It's almost like they're telling her when pieces are going to fall...

"Try to stay as close to me as possible!" Lya exclaims to the others as Alex makes his way up the ladder to join the rest of the group. "I marked the way so I can find the way back."

Klepto and Orithia quickly move forward with their shields on either side of Lya as they make their way back down the tunnel...

Evie puts a hand on Alex's back and gently pushes him in front of her, nearer to Lya. They have gone to Hel and back to find him. And, now, they discover him again hidden away in this castle and used as a magical focus. She's not about to let him bring up the rear and possibly lose him in all of this chaos.

At this point, Evie goes into autopilot. There is no thinking. There is only_ doing._ Watch for falling debris, jump cracks and chasms that appear, dodge obstacles that suddenly appear...but, mostly importantly, protect her friends if they need it. Hopefully, though, Lya's powers will let them find the way out safely.

"At least she's dodging something tangible this time," Klepto says, then exclaims as a chunk of ceiling bashes her on the shoulder. "Ow!"

It's a scything, crazy dance as Lya makes her way down the tunnel, dodging things a split-second before they impinge upon her progress. As the tunnel continues to collapse, following her becomes progressively more difficult.

It is only by chance that Evie lays a hand on Lya's shoulder at one point. Her eyes widen, as if opened to a wondrous panorama. As the next chunk of ceiling drops, she and Lya seem to move as one, ducking aside and around the debris.

"Link hands!"she calls out, holding out her hand. "Alex!"

Alex takes her hand; the Furies complete the chain.

"I ... ooof," says Alex.

"Don't think about it," Phoebe said. "Surrender to the moment. Feel the thread and your connection to it ..."

The chaotic snake dance continues, and Evie laughs at one point. The Furies are smiling.

And then you're at the ladder leading out of the tunnels, and back in the pantry. There is the smell of smoke, and you realize that whatever is rending the castle apart, the kitchens have been abandoned, with grease fires and boiling pots spilling over...

Lya turns her head and grins at Evie as she starts to sing. "But can we dance into the fire, that fatal kiss is all we need..." she gestures with her hand gripped in hers for Evie to continue the lyrics.

Evie looks at her with a raised eyebrow until suddenly her mind takes her back when she used to dance around the house as a kid listening to Duran Duran with her headphones on. "Dance...into the fire...to fatal sounds of broken dreams..." she mutters as the memories come back to her.

Lya's smile grows wider as she nods in approval and begins to skip as she leads the others through the steam and bubbling grease. "Dance into the fire, that fatal kiss is all we need..."

"Dance into the fire, when all we see is the view to a killlll!" the chorus reaches a crescendo as the Furies all join in with a laugh as they grip hands tight and follow.

Alex laughs. _Bond, James Bond,_ he thinks, remembering the film for which the song was named. Still, he was enjoying the reboot of the film series more than the later Roger Moore films.

An Einjehar goes stumbling by, drooling. His hands are empty, but twitching spasmodically. Lya's voice hitches as she sees the effected Einjehar stumble down the hallway. _Shit... think fast..._

Lya quickly turns and grabs Alex by the shirt as she pulls herself up on her tip toes and kisses him to the collective gasps and laughs of the Furies.

"Really, Lya?" Evie chuckles as she turns to watch the spectacle.

Despite the dangers surrounding them, Evie can't help but grin unabashedly at the sight. She laughs softly, not blaming Lya at all for taking the opportunity to lay one on Alex, if that is what she has desired. After all, who knows if they will get out of here in one piece? Grab that opportunity with both hands, lady! Carpe diem!

"I ... " Alex manages to murmur before surrendering to the moment. He smiles at Lya. "Mmm. That was nice. Unexpected, but ..."

A timber crashes down on the spot where most of the group would have been standing. The ambling Einjehar was not as fortunate.

_I'll take it_, Lya tells herself.

The sound of timbers crashing snaps Evie's attention back to the quickly collapsing castle. Her voice is still filled with a soft amusement as she says, "Come on, guys. We need to get out of here."

"Missed you, big guy," Lya says to Alex with a smile and sighs in relief as she turns to see that the Einjehar is totally obscured by the fallen timber.

"Too right, Evie... I'm ready for a drink and this is definitely not the place or time." She gestures to the others to clasp hands again and continues their little chaotic conga line down the hall.

It isn't until you make it out into the courtyard that you realize the extent of things. The castle isn't collapsing; it's being torn apart from the top down. Debris ranging from barrels to massive stone blocks are being lifted into the sky, engulfed by a vortex of energy as daunting as a Kansas tornado.

Nothing is being spared. The bodies of the living and the dead are being vacuumed up. The roof of one outbuilding is torn away. A segment of the wall goes scudding along the ground, then pops up into the air, clobbering a squad of Einjehar. More bodies and viscera tumble into the gyre.

"Shit!" Alex shouts over the rising winds. "I'm the anchor! Don't let go!"

The ease of moving through the castle is gone. It's not that things are any less predictable - Lya seems to be wired into some aspect of her divine blood - but everything is moving faster. Even with the benefit of Lya's ability, others in the group are getting clipped by bits of rock or metal, some of them sharp. Everyone is covered in the grit and grime of flying dirt ...

Evie looks up into the vortex of wind, rubble and bodies. Her heart thumps wildly in her chest, fear gripping her. "Welp. We don't do anything by halves, do we?" she mumbles as she tries to steady herself.

She grips her companions' hands more firmly, turning her eyes back down to the ground. She has to keep herself in the here and now, rooted to the earth. Don't think about the giant, swirling aerial Cuisnart of Doom. Nope. Just walk. Just one foot in front of the other. Hold on to Alex and Lya. Don't let go. Just keep going...

The Furies move quickly and push Lya and Evie closer to Alex as they each grab at his arms with one hand and raise their shields with the other to try and form a protective circle around them.

"We move as one!" Klepto yells out over the storm.

"Evie!" Lya yells over the noise of crumbling structures and flying debris. "Can you direct us out of here?"

"I can find the shortest route out, I think," Evie nods and shouts.

She takes a moment, closing her eyes as she forms mental coordinates of the swirling beast overhead...how far it reaches, it's shape...trying to find the quickest route out from under it.

Lya nods at Evie. "Awesome. And just in case..." she pulls out her phone in a death grip and quickly hits the redial button to reach their erstwhile taxi. "Pick up, you crazy dwarf!"

"By the Norns!" Hrofgar shouts over the roaring winds. "You folk don't do anything by half-measures, do you? Odin's Missing Eye, I'm glad I stuck around!"

A moment later, he is there amid you. "Group hug!" he shouts.

But instead of the eye blink teleport you experienced before, the sensation is far more wrenching, as if you'd jumped off a speeding train. Even Hrofgar seems to have the wind knocked out of him.

"That's never happened before," he mutters. He blinks back and forth across the room without incident. "Odd."

"Is everybody OK?" Lya calls out before grabbing her head in pain. "Gods... I think I'm going to be sick..."

"Still alive... but kind of regretting it right now," Toxic moans as she rolls over onto her back.

"Did someone get the number of that train?" Orithia mutters as she makes her way to wobbly feet and offers her hand to Phoebe.

"Alex? Evie?" Klepto asks.

"I survived a chopper crash," Alex said, with somewhat of a trying-not-to-puke look on his face.. "This was worse. Still appreciate the lift, though, Hrofgar."

"I'm here," Evie groans as she tries to resist the urge to lay down and curl into a little ball of nausea. She makes a little "hurk" sound but manages not to vomit.


	33. I don't think we're in Kansas anymore

"So... when someone teleports you and says 'well that never happened before,' should I be worried?" Lya chuckles and then winces before rubbing her temple and pulling out her flask to take a drink. "Where the heck are we?"

"I bet it was because Alex is now some sort of magical anchor," Evie offers as she plops down on her butt without any kind of decorum or grace. "Ugh...bleh. Anyway, he was meant to stay in one place and keep that castle in Vegas. Even with the line cut, an anchor is still heavy as fuck."

After a moment, the detective adds quietly, "I hope Hitoshi got out of there."

"Oh, that's right," Hrofgar says. "Only these two shieldmaidens have been here before. Welcome to Hrofgar and Sons. Arms, Armor, and Artifacts for the Aesir, and ... well, anyone who can afford them."  
He gestures towards a large refectory table and its chairs.

"Have a seat. I'd offer you something to drink, but none of you look like you're in a place to savor a decent summer mead," he chuckles. "Make yourselves at home while I check on a few things."

"I guess it's like cutting a high-tension wire," Alex said. "The loose end goes whipping about like a snake. I can't imagine things were any better on the other end. Hey, wait a minute - if we're in Asgard, how does Hrofgar get cell service?"

"Magic," Phoebe mutters, still looking somewhat bleary-eyed. "I mean, Lya can summon us out of thin air."

"Soon as my head stops imitating Hephaestus' forge, we can go back," Orithia said. "Worse'n a hangover."

"I could go for some fresh air," said Alex, adding, "As long as it's not Fimbulwinter outside."

"I don't know about the others, but I'm _always_ in a place to savor a new drink," Lya chuckles with a weak wave of her hand as Orithia helps her stand up. "If I'm going to feel like this, I might as well pretend it's because I've been drinking."

She makes her way over to the table and sits down in one of the chairs with a heavy thump.

"Yeah... Hitoshi..." Lya mutters to herself as she runs a hand over her face in weariness. "I have to assume that he can take care of himself and got out... because I don't want to consider the alternative, you know? I mean... you'd tell me, Evie if you...if you saw..."

"You'd be the first," Evie whispers reassuringly as she clasps her on the shoulder for a moment and takes a seat.

"Just because I think he's a presumptuous self-righteous asshole trying to tell me how to live my life doesn't mean I don't _care,"_ she grumbles.

"Fresh air sounds wonderful," Klepto agrees. "It'll be nice to take a breath that isn't tainted with damp mold or smoke again. If you wish accompaniment, Alex, I will join you."

Evie gives Lya's shoulder a soft pat before flopping into a seat next to her. She stretches out her legs beneath the table and slouches. One hand reaches up to rub at her forehead, smearing dirt and grit everywhere. She lifts her hand and looks at it, inspecting the filth with a wry smile, "It seems that 'soil and soot' has been our look lately, eh?"

She sighs, "So, what now? I guess we rest for a little bit and then go see what's left of that part of Vegas?"

Evie blinks and remembers where they are, "Hey! If we're in Asgard, then I can go to the Bifrost. Maybe we can see what's going on from there."

"We can prop each other up, at least," Alex says. "Though I'm starting to feel better now that the room isn't spinning."

He gives Klepto a half-bow and says, "After you, my lady."

Klepto takes a playful swing at him. "I'm not wearing a crown or frilly skirts."

"You know, if we're going to start fighting mythical creatures, I'm going to be asking for some coaching," Alex said as they walked past a rack of gleaming weapons. "Fencing is not quite the same thing."

"Toxic is our sword captain," Klepto says. "Phoebe is the best archer."

"And you?"

"Pankration," she smiled. "I fight with everything from bare hands to pointed sticks."

Despite the remonstration, Alex still opened the door for Klepto. Outside, it was cool, but not a snow-covered landscape. The sun was just coming up over the mountains, and it looked like it would be a glorious day.

"I'm home," Alex breathed. "I mean, I'll always be from a suburb of Maryland, but this is _home._ Asgard."

"... I can go to the Bifrost. Maybe we can see what's going on from there," Evie said.

"Whoa-ho-ho, not so fast," Hrofgar says, passing back through the room. "It's not a public park. Even though you're Aesir, you'll have to get past the city guard, and they'll probably make you petition the All-Father, assuming he's not off wandering through the Nine Worlds."

"Still, if you want, I can get one of my boys to show you around."

Evie grins and laughs, "Yeah, the last time I wound up on the Bifrost was by accident and All-Father was pretty understanding about it. I'm not sure he'll be as good-natured if I just charge over there. Still...maybe I can ask Dad to help me out."

"But, yeah...yeah. Whatever happens as far as that is concerned, I want to see Asgard. I could see it from Earth, you know. And, this is where my heart is," the detective shakes her head and shrugs. "It sounds stupid and corny, I know. I mean, I was born on Earth. But ever since I laid eyes on it, it's like...it's like...it pulls at me."

"If the Gods allow it, perhaps we shall be able to show you Mount Olympus someday, Alex," Klepto replies after taking a deep breath. "Though if the price is another end of the world scenario, I would gladly learn to better describe it in words instead."

"So no asking the Gods what the heck _their_ plans are with Fenris and Loki and why they've left it to us I take it," Lya scoffs.

"There's a plan like a sword fight has a plan," Hrofgar says. "Sword's only as good as the last thing you killed."

"I _like_ you, dwarf," Toxic smiles.

"I wouldn't be in this line of work if I didn't have a talent for war," Hrofgar said. "It's not about just making nice weapons for the kids. Anyway, like I said, one of my boys can run you into the city when you're ready. But, friendly advice: haggle."

"Deal," Alex says to Klepto. "It's a bit unsettling that all of this may just been the other side's opening gambit."

"At day's end, it comes down to a simple choice," Klepto said. "Did you stand up for what is right? 'Should have' is written on a lot of tombstones."

Alex nodded. "Personal experience, there. When the chopper went down, I had two choices: quit or keep going. It didn't matter that the odds weren't in my favor. When it comes down to it, in the end, Lyman and I have been enemies for a long, long time."

He takes a deep breath.

"Fresh air. Really fresh air," he says. "And blue skies. It's like being in Yosemite. Wonder if there's a lake I can go swimming in?"

"Wouldn't want to chance upsetting their water gods," Klepto replies as she jokingly elbows him. "Perhaps we should see what the ones who've been here before have to say before we go wandering off."

"Well heck, I'd be kicking myself through the afterlife if I didn't take the opportunity to see Asgard while I had the chance," Lya replies as an idea hits her. "Oooo... I wonder if they'd part with a bottle or two of that mead, eh?"

She leans over the back of the chair to smile at Hrofgar. "What do they charge you guys for one of those bottles? First born kin? Memories of childhood?"

"Nothing so dire. Gold will do just fine," Hrofgar smiles. "And I'm more than willing to issue some coin off the amazing line of credit you earned with that sarcophagus. Gonna be some svartalfar crying themselves to sleep when I show them what a dwarf can do with star-metal."

"Okay," Alex beamed. "_Now _I can consider something to eat or drink. Fresh air - real fresh air. I feel awake, though I suppose I've been sleeping for six months while playing human push-pin. I don't remember anything after encountering ... her."

"Sounds good to me!" Evie smiles, starting to finally feel better after their jaunt. It had taken a few minutes, but her stomach has finally settled and now she just feels dirty.

"Hmmm...I wonder if there is somewhere where we can bathe? I don't know about you, Lya, but I feel like there's grit on my grit," she grins.

"I wouldn't turn away a bath!" Lya agrees.

"Hmmm...I wonder how I get Dad's attention. I feel kind of silly just talking to thin air," Evie says as she stands, her mind turning back to the Bifrost. "But, I figure he's always watching and listening. He probably knows I'm here already and what I want. So...uhhh...hi, Dad!"

Evie lifts a hand and cheerfully waves at nothing in particular. Laughing, she looks to Lya and, gesturing behind her says, "I'd be just my luck that he's back there and I'm waving over that way. He's standing back there, face-palming, thinking, 'This is my kid?'"

"Right. Well, you'll want something more than the water trough out back," Hrofgar nods. "Pol! Run our customers over to Gerry's guest house, have her bill me."  
"Sure thing, Da," says another dwarf. "I'll be out in front hitching up the horses."

Shortly thereafter, you're on the road, enjoying a wagon ride through rolling hills and open fields. Just under an hour later, you're approaching the gates of an impressive city. A city-state, even.

"Taking some customers in to Gerra's guest house," Pol tells the guards. In a quieter voice, he notes that two of his passengers are the Son of Tyr and Daughter of Heimdal. The guards give you a fist-to-chest salute, and wave the wagon past.

It's like riding through older sections of Europe and the UK. Classic stonework and wood beams forming runic designs. There's somewhat of a militaristic tone to everything - even the children at play are doing so with wooden swords and shields, not a few of them young girls.

A broad circle at the end of a main avenue is an open-air marketplace, with everything from fabrics to foodstuffs. Just beyond is the guest house.

"Ah, Pol. Gods, you've gone and put some muscle on your muscles," a broad-shouldered female dwarf opines. "Welcome, friends. I'm Gerra, Pol's aunt, and this is my hostel. You'll be wanting rooms, food, and baths - from the look of things."

She looks Alex up and down. He's still wearing a mostly charred business suit.

"I'll wager you have quite the tale," she smiles. "Come to the common room this evening and share, if you'll do us the honor. Pol, I imagine you'll be off to Tally's to fetch some clothes for the lord?"

"I will. Can Trudy help me get his measurements?"

Gerra nods.

In short order, you are shown to your rooms, and informed that the bathhouse is out back. Robes are made available for your convenience.

"Well let's see if I can sum this up," Lya says to Alex with a weary smile as they ride. "We went to rescue you in the Underworld but came back months later to find Lyman and the Fenris bitches had done their best to bring on Fimbrulwinter and they want to start WWIII in order to change their fate when it comes to Ragnarok. Hitoshi disappeared without telling us to try and save the world by himself by killing Lyman and now we don't know if he's alive or dead. Oh... and I met a Chinese goddess who taught me how to heal people, and we entered the castle to break the anchor holding the castle on our world but found out the anchor was you and that the Alex we had was merely a creation of Hel used to take your place."

She stops and scratches her head as she thinks. "I think that's the gist of it..."

"Hey Pol... if we go eating and drinking here we're not like going to have to stay here forever are we?" Lya turns to ask the dwarf. "Because I could totally kill for a sandwich right now and I don't want to have to peck at pomegranate seeds like Persephone, you know?"

"Wow. Game on, I guess," Alex says. "Not sure how you can do an end run around the Norns, however. Or what would happen if you do."

"No, there are no such restrictions? Rules? You eat when you're hungry, drink when you're thirsty," Hrofgar says in answer to your question. "Actually, around here, you drink whenever you damn want to. It's practically the national sport. But, be careful. Some of the warriors around here can really put it away."

"Oh, no. Not again," Toxic says, elbowing Alex in the ribs.

"Hey that sounds like a challenge to me," Lya laughs happily. "Come on Son of Tyr... I'll bet you could use a good dozen or so drinks after the ordeal you've been through. I say it's time to bathe, eat, and then drink until we puke so we can make room for more! In the meantime you can get caught up with all the craziness and Evie can hopefully have a family reunion."

"Is there a good bar or tavern in town?" Alex asked. "And by good, I mostly mean one where we won't get mugged in an alleyway after drinking everyone under the table."

"Like I said, it's our national pastime," Hrofgar laughed. "We have taverns like you mortals have your fast food places."

He grunts.

"Food's better, though. And we don't do ... soft drinks."

"By the time we're done they'll be lucky if they can walk let alone mug somebody," Lya snorts.

"Besides... you guys are talking like we're going to miss this," Toxic chuckles. "I learned my lesson not to compete with you guys... but it doesn't mean I don't want to watch." She winks as she walks by and nudges Phoebe and Orithia. "Come on... there's a bathhouse calling our names."

Evie chuckles, "I'm with these gals. I'm not going to feel like a human being until I get cleaned up."

"I'm still not going to compete with you guys, though, when it comes to drinking," she grins and shakes her head. "I'm thinking that would be a recipe for personal disaster."

Evie has never, truly been drunk. At the very worst, she's only ever gotten tipsy, which involves her getting giggly and a little sillier than usual. She's not sure that she wants to experience what she would be like after trying to keep up with a Daughter of Dionysus!

"I have to agree that a bath is somewhere in my immediate future," Alex says. "And some new clothes. I not only look and feel dirty, I smell like burnt toast."

"So, Pol. We just came from Midgard, where it seemed like the Scions of Fenris and Loki were trying to give Fimbulwinter a running start," he said. "Was anything amiss here in Asgard?"

"I wouldn't know, my Lord," Pol answered.

"Please. Call me Alex. I may have some special gifts, but I'm just a lawyer."

"A what?" asked Trudy.

"Advocate. I represent people in court," Alex explained. "Mostly those who have been accused of crimes they did not commit."

"Ah. Like your father," Pol nodded.

"Yes. He's still a better warrior than I, however," Alex pointed out.

"Come tell your tale in the Common Room this evening," Pol said. "Have your worth judged in the telling."

"There," said Trudy, gathering up her tape measure. "What is the Lor- Alex, what do you want to wear?"

"Nothing fancy. But not full armor, either," he said. "What we wear on Midgard is quite different."

"We'll find you something suitable."

"Blessed are the Naiads and their gifts of hot springs,"groans Toxic as she lowers herself into the steaming bath to sit beside Orithia on one of the stone benches. "I may just stay in here instead of going out drinking..."

"And miss Lya drinking Asgard under the table?" scoffs Klepto as she grabs one of the bars of soap in baskets along the side of the bath. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Someone has to remain sober enough to tell the tale," Phoebe smiles as she wrings the water out of her hair.

"Tell tales..." Lya scoffs as she enters the bath house and starts pulling off her boots. "Heck, they're going to write songs if I have anything to say about it. We've been through so much crap and managed to come out alive... I think we deserve a night where we can let loose before going back to the doom and gloom, right?"

She quickly strips and leaves her clothes in a pile on a bench before joining the others in the water. "Ahhhh... that's what I'm talking about." She leans her head back onto the bricks and closes her eyes. "Sometimes we've got to stop and remind ourselves of the good things we're fighting for."

Evie, too, strips down and slides into the warm, inviting water with the other ladies. She sighs and closes her eyes, letting the comforting heat penetrate her muscles. She hadn't realized exactly how tense she has been until now. Finally, she lets herself relax, her body and mind unknotting.

She leans her head back against the bricks for a few minutes before sliding all the way under, getting her hair wet. Evie pops back up and snorts water out of her nose as she reaches over for a hunk of soap. She then happily sets to the task of scrubbing herself, with no regard for decorum. Shampoo? Conditioner? Feh! Soap is soap is soap. The bar serves just as well for hair as it does for the body.

Grinning, she says, "Personally, I'm looking forward to getting out and seeing Asgard more closely. I mean, yeah...it's nice seeing it from the carriage, but it's better to walk around and soak it in slowly. On foot. And maybe get some good food."

"So Evie... you going to try and see your Dad while you're here?" Lya asks curiously. "If he's anything like the movies you know where he's probably going to be, right? Maybe he can help you see your family down there or something."

Once more, Evie slides her head under the water to rinse out the soap. When she surfaces, she rubs water from her eyes as she nods, "Yeah. Heh. I expect him to be hanging out on the Bifrost but...who knows? He may get called away to other places. Celestial stakeouts and the like, I imagine."

"Mostly, I want to find out what's happening in Vegas now that the castle has been destroyed. I do not want to be plopped back on Earth with no forewarning about what to expect. I had enough of that with Hel's shenanigans," Evie makes a sour face.

However, her expression softens as she thinks about her mortal family, "But, yeah. I do want to check on my family. I'm sure that Mom, Dad and Ricky are taking care of each other. I'm betting Saul is watching out for them, too. I'm really worried about Ian. If he's stuck in India, who knows what's happening over there?"

She gives Lya a reassuring smile as she continues, "I also want to look for Hitoshi. He's strong, fast and resourceful. I'm sure that he got out of there. But, I would feel better if I could find that out for certain."

Lya sighs. "Yeah... it would be nice to know that he's OK." She takes a deep breath and dunks under the water before coming back up and smoothing her her back out of her face. "I don't think Dad would be too happy with me trying to talk to Hachiman... but that Goddess of Shadows... she seemed to appreciate a good bottle of liquor just like anybody else. If we don't find any answers here... maybe I can ask her once we make it back to the Grandview."

"That's a good idea. As much as Hitoshi seemed to be wrapping himself in shadows, lately, I'm betting she's keeping an eye on him."

Alex had opted to have a servant draw a private bath, so that he would be ready to don fresh clothes when they arrived. What was left of his suit didn't amount to much - slacks burnt off at the knee, a suit jacket torn and stained. Looking at the back of the jacket, it looked like he'd been dragged part of the way to the cistern.

On top of it all, he'd gone and fought a troll.

He sorted through what was left, removing his wallet. The fountain pen that he used for signing documents, and the sturdier ballpoint beside it. He made sure to transfer the relics that unlocked his divine powers. Alex was surprised that Lyman hadn't taken any of his possessions, but that would be trouble, indeed, if he were caught with such in his keeping.

Still, the thought of Lyman being the principal engineer of his troubles, then standing before Tyr or the All-Father and showing clean hands and dutiful obeisance to the Lord of Asgard rankled.

A knock at the door betokened the return of Pol, his arms laden with parcels.

"Oof. Help?" the dwarf asked.

Alex bustled to help put the packages on the bed and an adjoining table. In short order, he was wearing comfortable boots, breeches, and a linen shirt. Accessories included a belt pouch and a dagger-like knife. A sword to replace the one his 'evil twin' had been carrying. A woolen cloak trimmed with fur completed the ensemble. He imagined Lya and the others would be ready soon, and went down to the common room to wait.

After finishing scrubbing the grime off of herself, Evie climbs out of the bath. She rubs idly at the puckered scar on her thigh as she walks. It's been years since she got it, but the weird feel of it never seems to get old.

She bends down to pick up her clothes and it dawns on her that they are filthy. Putting them back on will just undo all the good that the bath did.

Practical to core, Evie's first inclination is to chuck them into the bath and wash them out, as well. (It wouldn't be the first time that she's washed something in the tub.) However, she figures that the others might not appreciate the amount of grit that would add to the bath water.

Evie stands there for a second, "Huh. I wonder if we can get some fresh clothes?"

"Well Hrofgar did provide some spending coin if you need something," Lya answers. "For now though, I think we're just going to have to make due."

"Won't be the first time," Toxic snorts.

"Besides... with clothes and armor covered in the dirt of victorious battle, we'll probably fit right in," Klepto laughs as the others chuckle.

Evie shrugs and grins, "I'll just wait until you're done and rinse them out. I didn't want to toss them in while you are still enjoying the bath."

"And after you're going to come party with us, right?" Lya grins as she grabs a bar of soap and starts scrubbing her arms. "You deserve at least one night of fun before we get back to business, Evie. Time to get back to your roots and down a few brewskis before going to battle!"

"Absolutely! I wouldn't miss it for anything! How often can someone say, 'I partied in Asgard?'" Evie laughs and sits down on the edge of the bath, plunking her feet back in. She wiggles her toes and grins.

"Maybe, at some point, we can see Olympus, too. Oh! And then we could go to...I don't know where the Japanese pantheon resides," the detective thinks for a minute. "The Jade Palace? Jade Mountain? Something like that? Anyway, you guys could do a rockin' multi-realm tour."

"Where are you from?" asked another guest.

"Las Vegas," Alex said, automatically.

"Where is that? Vanaheim? Are they bringing in troops?"

"Midgard," Alex corrected. "I actually hadn't expected to come here."

"A merchant? Nay, you don't look like one."

"An advocate," Alex said, since Pol and Trudy seemed to understand that concept.

"One of your vassals misbehaving?"

Alex laughed. "I wish it were that simple. No, this is ..."

A young child plowed into him, bounced off, and landed on his backside.

"Ragnar, you little hellion!" chided Gerra. "Stop running around the common room!"

Alex bent and offered his hand to the young dwarf, who seemed a bit stunned.

"Ow," the boy said. He punched lightly at Alex's thigh. "No armor. What are you made of, stone?"

"Flesh and blood, like everyone else," Alex chuckled. "You must be the fearsome warrior I've been hearing about."

"You're pulling my leg!"

"Hmm. Fearless? Check. Fast? Check. Ready to stand in defense of home, land, and family? Check. You have to be him," Alex smiled.

"You forgot 'ready to do his chores,' my Lord," Gerra scolded, bustling her young charge off.

Lya's head rocks back as she laughs. "Oh man... wouldn't that be a show! Do they even _have_ electricity in Asgard, or would we have to power our amps with magic runes or something?"

"We haven't done an acoustic show in ages," Orithia says with a wistful smile. "It might be fun!"

"Do they have guitars in Asgard?" Toxic wonders. "It's been even longer since I've played a lute."

Lya quickly dunks herself to rinse off and smiles. "We'll see if their bards are worth their drink tonight... otherwise we may have to show them how we do in in Las Vegas."

With a hop she lifts herself out of the pool and climbs out to grab a linen towel to dry off with. "Come on guys... it's beer o'clock and I'm buying!"

Klepto climbs out of the pool and grabs a handful of towels that she sets by the others at the edge of the pool. "Time to suit up, ladies!"

Evie chuckles, "Give me a sec. Oh, and don't feel like you have to wait on me. This won't take long. I can meet you in the common room in ten or fifteen minutes."

She picks up her wad of clothes and chucks them into the pool. Sliding into the water alongside her laundry, she begins to swiftly rinse them out. She's not soaping them up or anything. This is a simple swish n' twist, just to get the majority of the yuck off.

Evie wrings out her clothes as best she can then dons them. They are cold against her skin, but she knows from experience that they will dry quickly, especially when combined with sitting in front of a hearth.

"No prob, Evie... probably going to put my hair up first before we head out anyway since they don't have hair dryers around here," Lya replies as she finishes pulling on her boots and leans over to wring some water out of her long hair.

"Luckily braids are in fashion," Phoebe smiles in reply as Klepto thumps her lightly on her on her shoulders to signify that her armor is good. "I can fix your hair while we sit by the fire."

"Are we going to do our nails and share stories about boys next?" Toxic snorts as Orithia checks the buckles of her breastplate.

"But they're so _dreamy!"_ Lya replies with a dramatic hand to her forehead before she loses it in a laugh and waves her hand at Toxic as she and Phoebe retreat back to their main quarters.

"Ah, Lya, just who I wanted to see," Hrofgar bellows as he shoulders the door open and walks into the room with a long flat rectangular box under his arm. "After your little adventure in the castle I was thinking that you might need something a little more substantial than your popgun... so when this came back into our hands I figured I'd retool it a bit for you."

He sets the box on one of the tables and turns in towards her before opening it up to reveal the telltale shine of gunmetal as she gazes at a polished M1911A with a pearl handled grip and the words _Veritas liberabit vos_ inscribed on the side.

Phoebe whistles and Lya runs her hand lovingly down the barrel as she reads the words. "The truth shall set you free?" She looks up at Hrofgar curiously.

"Yeah... this belonged to another Son of Tyr before he died... Thomas Cardenelli. He was a lawman like the Scion of Heimdall... so I thought it was fitting." Hrofgar smooths a hand over his bald head as he smiles in memory.

"Wow... I hope he doesn't mind," Lya mutters to herself as she notices a strange rune at the base of the grip.

"What's that?"

"I mean what's this?" Lya quickly covers as she points to a rune shaped like a Less Than symbol.

"Kenaz... the Rune of Knowledge," Hrofgar replies with a chuckle. "When you point this baby at somebody, you tend to learn all sorts of things."

"Damn, Hrofgar... I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"A 'You've got dibs on the next chunk of star metal I find,' will do nicely," the dwarf laughs as he holds out his hand.

"Deal," Lya smiles as she slips the gun in her holster and they shake hands.

A still damp Evie moves to stand beside Lya. She looks at the gun appreciatively as the two of them talk. When all is said and done, Evie smiles and claps Lya on the shoulder, "I don't think he'll mind, at all. He's a good sort, more interested in making sure good is done than anything else. As long as you use it to help and defend others, he'll be happy."

"Here's hoping I never have to use it at all," Lya replies with a smile. "But if I do, I'll make sure I put it to a good cause."

"Come now, let me work on your hair before it becomes a birds nest," Phoebe says as she gestures for Lya to sit by the fire and scoots over to make room for Evie so she can dry her clothes.

"Aren't you guys done yet?" Toxic asks as she walks back into the room in full leathers and grabs her sword scabbard to strap to her side. The others soon follow suit, each with short swords and daggers as a bare minimum.

"Really, Toxic? We're going to go out drinking, not go to battle," Lya asks with a roll of her eyes as Phoebe deftly runs fingers through her hair pulling it back in sections to braid.

"When it comes to Norse warriors it very well could be the same thing," Toxic replies.

Klepto laughs as she grabs a piece of bread from the table and tears some chunks out of it that she tosses to Toxic, Orithia and Evie before taking a bite out of her own. "Gotta pad the stomach first..." she mutters.

"What, don't I get any?" Lya pouts.

"I thought you were powered by alcohol," Klepto scoffs as she tears two more pieces that she tosses to Lya and Phoebe.

"I'm a hybrid scion, thank you..." Lya replies as she catches the bread and hands one to Phoebe. "just because I can, doesn't mean I should do it all day."

Orithia laughs out loud. "You sure we made it out alive? No way I just heard Lya say that."

Evie sits quietly beside Lya, smiling as she listens to the light banter between the bandmates. After all the action at the castle, a bath and now this warm fire, she finds her eyes getting heavy. It's not like she didn't get enough sleep before they left. It's simply a case of her finally being relaxed. Once everyone starts moving, again, she'll quickly perk back up. But, for now, the friendly chatter and warmth are lulling.

"There all done," Phoebe says with a smile as she pats Lya's shoulder. "Unless you want me to weave a weight at the end for an extra weapon?"

"Appreciate the offer, but my hair is heavy enough," Lya chuckles before noticing Evie's drooping eyes as she warms herself by the fire.

"Hey now, you can sleep after the drinking," Lya says to Evie as she leans over and playfully bumps her shoulder. "Besides... we've got some shopping to do, right? I'm sure there's got to be a marketplace on the way to the bar. I can't even remember the last time I got to go clothes shopping with girls..."

Toxic makes a snorting noise and Lya looks at her with a crooked grin. "Well sure, it's probably going to be for armor and weapons... but still... I get to go shopping with all my girlfriends! How cool is that, eh?"

She reaches down and pulls Evie to her feet with a hopeful smile. "Come on, Evie... we need to get you something that lets all these guys know just who you are when you walk in that door. We're going to go out tonight in style!"

Evie laughs as Lya pulls her to her feet, "I wasn't falling asleep! Much."

"You know, it will be nice to shop. I haven't done that in ages! I used to go out quite a bit with one of my old friends but...after I joined the police force, we sort of drifted apart. Weird hours and all that," she grins and adds, "And my wardrobe has been all the worse for it!"

Evie pulls at her clothes, trying to get more air to parts that were wrinkled up and wetter than other parts, "Pus, I'll be happy to get into something clean _and_ dry!"

"This will be fun!" she beams at her friends, goes to the door and opens it. Evie politely bows as she holds it open. "Ladies!"


	34. Drinks All Around!

The sun is bright and the air crisp as Lya eagerly walks out the door and takes a deep breath. "Man... I could get used to this," she mutters to herself before the others follow suit out the door with Alex bringing up the rear.

"Look at you, already sporting the latest Asgardian fashions, eh?" Lya kids as she whistles at Alex's new clothes.

"Those clothes I was in were already half burnt... I figured it was about time to finish the job," Alex jokes in reply as they walk down the path.

Phoebe smiles as she walks past Alex. "It suits you, son of Tyr."

"Gives me hope that we can find some good clothes," Lya chuckles as they soon hear the tell-tale sounds of merchants and their wares. Various tents and lean-tos line the main path into the village, some of them dealing in food and bolts of fabric, with many others manned by blacksmiths showing off their trade by hammering away on their current orders. Fortunately for Evie there's one with a friendly older blond woman with tables full of already made clothes for her to peruse through.

Evie walks up to the table and smiles at the shopkeeper, offering a cheerful, "Good day!"

"And a good day to you," she smiles in return, looking over Evie's rumpled, dirty, and still unevenly dry clothing. "Did ye fight an elemental and then take a bath, because that's what it looks like, lass." The woman's voice is warm and full of humor and her eyes twinkle with mirth.

Evie kind of tilts her head to the side, seeming to think for a minute before her face splits in a wide grin, ""You are not far off the mark!"

The detective looks over the woman's wares, running a hand over the cloth, judging its comfort and sturdiness. After a bit, she settles upon a dark undershirt and a long, light brown tunic that could pass as a dress. The sides are split all the way up to the hip, allowing for pants underneath and much greater movement than a traditional dress.

"How much for these, ma'am?" she asks politely.

The shopkeeper cites a perfectly reasonable price.

"Shieldmaidens, all of you?" she asks. "You'll not be wanting trinkets, then."

"Not unless they're practical. Bullet ... I mean, arrow-deflecting bracers or the like," Orithia smiled.

"Boo-lets," the shopkeeper repeats. "Ah, not just shield maidens. You'll be with the All-Father, mayhap?"

For a moment, Evie considers picking up a trinket or two. Ian would absolutely flip if she were to bring back something from Asgard for him. That would be like showing up on his doorstep and saying, "Here. I brought you the holy grail!"

Unfortunately, Ricky wouldn't care for anything. Oh, he'd appreciate the thought but any gift aside from a full blown weapon or set of armor would wind up in the "How nice of you to think of me!" box in the back of his closet along with every terrible shirt Aunt Celine ever bought him.

Saul. Hmmm...she would get something for him but, honestly, this money isn't hers to spend on frivolous stuff. This needs to be used to supply the team with necessities.

Thus, she smiles and shakes her head at the shopkeeper, as well, "Just the clothes. Thank you."

Evie opts to not address the question about the All Father because she just doesn't know. What is the next step after Beer o' Clock? Will the All Father talk to them? Will she get a chance to talk to Heimdall? Will they be politely escorted out of Asgard? Can they find Loki and stuff hot peppers up his nose? (Because, honestly, she'd like to do that...)

"Lya's about to spend some of that coin getting shitfaced tonight, so I think you can get yourself something Evie," Toxic snorts as she walks up and admires a green tunic with gold piping around the collar and sleeves.

"Hey, do you have anything for a woman who needs protection but needs to be able to move fast?" Lya asks a tall red-headed man with braids in his beard as he finishes dunking a sword in a bucket of water for it to cool.

"No warrior looks to stand still and be struck," he replies in a booming voice as he walks up to Lya and wipes his brow as he sizes her up. "But, aye, I think I have something suitable for a wee shield maiden such as yourself." He turns to look over his shoulder as he yells out "Sigurn! Grab that scale mail order that never got picked up!"

He turns back to Lya and grins as a younger blonde man runs up with armor in hand. "Olaf had ordered it for his wife before she bothered to tell him she was pregnant... but I think it'll fit ye." He waves his hand at Sigurn who lays out the armor on the table.

"Bright and shiny..." Lya whispers to herself as she runs her fingers along the scale shirt and admires the simplicity and sturdiness of the breastplate and bracers that go with it.

"It will suit you," Orithia says as she peers over Lya's shoulder and points out the buckles. "These won't be too difficult to handle... you should be able to put it on yourself with some practice."

"Well then... it looks like we'll have a deal..." Lya says cheerfully as she pulls out a few gold coins from the pouch and looks up at the blacksmith. "If you can add a little something to it for me."

"Here we go..." Orithia mutters as she rolls her eyes and walks away to look at some short swords.

"Seeing as this was made for someone who isn't going to use it and I'm taking it off your hands so you don't get stuck with it... can you guys do some engraving? Nothing too fancy... I just want to pay tribute to my father, you get me?"

"Feh... hagglers..." the blacksmith mutters as he crosses his large forearms and looks down at Lya, "but honoring your father is something I cannot deny. SIGURN!"

The younger blonde rushes up to his side again. "Yes, Ralf?"

"You've got the small hands for the job... see if you can help the woman with her _decorations_ while I finish up this other order," he barks as he takes the coin from Lya's hand and turns away with a snort.

"So have you guys ever seen grapes before..."

Evie smiles and pays for her clothes, thanking the kind shopkeeper. She then wanders about and looks at other wares while Lya orders her armor.

"So did you guys get anything?" Lya asks as she leans against the table and turns to the Furies while waiting for her armor to be completed.

Phoebe smiles and turns as she shows Lya her new leather quiver and short bow strapped to her back, Klepto strikes a pose and flexes as she shows off her new studded leather gloves and gauntlets, Toxic smirks as she flourishes her new sword and Orithia just smiles.

"What... didn't you get anything Orithia? I mean when are we going to have the chance again, right?" Lya asks with a raised eyebrow.

The blonde Amazon reveals a leather roll from behind her back and unrolls it on the table to reveal a set of six simple yet elegant throwing knives. "Thanks to Hrofgar I've pretty much got what I need... but I did find something I thought you should have," she explains. "When bullets run out and guns jam you need a back-up."

"Why Orithia... I didn't know you cared," Lya chuckled as she admires the knives and takes one out to test its weight. Phoebe had not been remiss in her training of Lya when it comes to ranged weapons, so she knew these could be quite effective in a pinch.

Orithia snorts. "I just don't want to have to explain things to your father if something happens."

The blonde viking named Sigurn walks up behind the women and lays the armor out on the table with a thump and rattle of scales. "Finished! May it honor your father as you intended."

"Woo!" Lya exclaims in excitement as she claps her hands together and turns around to check out the bunches of grapes that are now inscribed on the breast plate and bracers. "Perfect!" She picks up the armor and makes an exaggerated straining look before Klepto takes the armor in hand and slings it over her shoulder with a sarcastic snort.

"Come little one... let's return to our room so we can get you looking like a warrior."

Evie follows along in their wake, smiling happily at the chatter going on between the women. She had opted to not get any armor, since what they had already gotten from Hrogar more than met her needs. She did, however, pick up a pair of comfortable pants to go under her tunic.

When they reach the inn, Evie changes into her new clothes. She smooths the cloth over her body and grins at how comfortable and natural it feels. And, she looks pretty darned good in it, if she does say so herself!

While the Furies are busy getting Lya into her new armor, Evie slips downstairs and finds a seat at a table where she just sits and enjoys watching and listening to all the people. It's nice to be surrounded by all this normal bustle of everyday life. Granted, this is quite different from Vegas, but it feels like...well...home.

She smiles and lets her eyes drift to the window, watching birds flit from rooftop to rooftop, singing their songs. A cat slinks along a fence, trying its darnedest to make a meal of of one of the songsters. To the side of the road, a group of children play something akin to marbles, it looks like.

"Can I get you something?" a waitress comes over, wiping her hands upon her apron.

"Water, please. And, maybe some bread and cheese," Evie says.

"Nothing hardier? Maybe some meat to go with that? I think we have some venison left from last night. Or, if ye want eggs, we have them," the waitress says.

"Oh! A slice of venison would be nice, now that you mention it," Evie's eyes light up. She hasn't had venison in ages. Not since the last time Saul went hunting and made venison chili for the two of them...and the local homeless shelter. There was no way the two of them were going to eat a whole deer, so much of the meat got donated.

When the lady comes back with her meal, Evie sits and enjoys her food. Right now, there is no rush. Well...there might be a rush, but she doesn't know about it. As far as Evie knows, there is no immediate, overwhelming threat that needs to be addressed. And, thus, this meal is the first in awhile that she's been able to savor.

Evie leans back in her chair and looks at the mug of water in her hand. It's a hefty, sturdy thing. It has small ornamentation, but nothing elaborate. And, that's when it occurs to her that this is perfect...

"Excuse, me!" Evie waves to the waitress when the lady is not busy with other customers. "I know this is going to sound strange but...could I buy one of these mugs?"

The woman looks at her curiously, obviously a bit baffled as to why someone would want the mug itself, "I can check with the owner and see if he'll part with one."

Evie smiles, "I know it's seems weird. It's a gift for my brother. He's an anthropologist...a scholar who studies different cultures. He's never been to Asgard and this...well...this is a representation of everyday life, here. It's something that everyone uses...young, old, rich or poor...and it has been used! This has been touched by many hands. It would mean more to him than if I bought him something fancy, straight from the crafter's table."

"Oh!" she adds. "And, maybe I could buy a bottle of mead? My other brother is a barkeep. He's constantly making new drinks for people to try and I don't think he's ever had mead. It's something that he would use and appreciate."

_Now, if only I could figure out what to bring back for Saul,_ she thinks to herself. Unfortunately, a gift for him continues to elude her. Honestly, the man is a giant nerd, just like she is. She could probably bring him back anything and he would be delighted. But...it has to be something perfect.

"Never had mead?" bellows a man sitting at a nearby table. "By Ymir's beard, what backwater do you hail from where such a travesty is possible!?"

"Psst. Hama, she's from Midgard. A Wanderer," someone hisses with some urgency.

The loud fellow blanches.

"I beg your pardon, my lady! Please forgive my ignorant words and coarse manners," he says. "Regardless of what Gerra offers, let me add a bottle from my own hearth."

He waves to one of the waitresses and nods. A bottle of crystal-clear amber liquid is brought forth and presented to you reverently. A second bottle is at hand and broached to pour a sample for your enjoyment.

It's a sweet wine, almost like a dessert wine or sweet sauvignon blanc, not too cloying or heavy on the palate.

Hama gives you an expectant look. "What does my lady think?"

Evie laughs and waves off the man's apology, "It's quite alright. Back home, I'm a guard. 'Backwater yokel' is probably one of the least offensive things I've been called." She's sure that they probably have some station that equates to 'detective' but she doesn't know what that is. 'Guard' is probably close enough to 'police officer' to pass.

"And, my name is Evie. There's no need for formalities," she blushes and fidgets a bit at all the attention. She's not used to being treated special. She's just a common, working gal.

"Thank you," she accepts the glass and takes a sip. Her eyes light up and she grins with delight. "It's delicious! I haven't tasted anything this fine in...ever! Oh, Ricky will love it. Thank you!"

She continues to sip the drink, enjoying the way it tastes and feels. She chuckles, "Lya will love this, too!" She turns back to Hama and asks, "Do you make this yourself?"

"Did I hear alcohol and my name in the same sentence?" Lya chuckles as she walks down the stairs into the inn with a smile and jingle of her new armor. She's soon followed by the Furies as they all nod at Evie and take their places around the table with her.

"Any kind of stew or venison would be great," Toxic tells the waitress as she walks by. "Oh... and we're going to need quite a few mugs," she chuckles.

"Come on, pass it over," Lya gestures as she sits on the bench with Evie and leans her back against the table. "If you don't mind," she says to the man as she takes the bottle and peruses the label. "At home I've been known to be a bit of a connoisseur."

Klepto snorts. "Is that what they call it..."

"Works better than 'daughter of the God of Wine' anyway," Lya chuckles as she takes one of the mugs set down by the waitress with a grateful nod and pours herself some of the mead.

"Lovely bouquet..." she mutters as she rolls the mead around in the cup and sniffs it before taking a drink. "Ah... smooth... with a taste of honey and fruit at the end. My compliments!" She raises the mug and toasts the gentleman before finishing off the rest in the cup.

She then stands and removes her flask from her belt. "Now if you would... try some of this on for size. I'd say it'll put hair on your chest... but it looks like you've got that covered, eh?" She grabs another mug and pours some Yamazaki Single Malt Sherry Whiskey into it before handing it over.

"This is one of the top Whiskeys from Midgard, my friend."

"Good color," Hama says as he swirls the whiskey in his mug. "Smells like late summer harvest."

He takes a deep swallow.

"Oh, gods," he coughs. "Aegir's daughter, is it? I'd sing your praises, but my talent runs to the still and the sword. I'm told I sound like the cows out back."

He quaffs the rest of what you poured and slams his mug on the table. "Ah! That's a worthy draught, indeed!"

Evie grins and leans back in her chair, lazily sipping upon her mead. With Lya here, things will turn into a party soon enough. She chuckles softly, happy to simply bask in the glow of companionship.

"I wonder if there's the equivalent of an ABC store, here? We could have a tasting!" Evie suggests.

"Well, about time you showed up!" laughs Alex, dragging a stool over to join you at the table. "Now we can get down to some serious drinking!"

"_Serious_ drinking," laughs Lya. "My father warned me about men like you."

"Then we should start with the good stuff," opines one man. "Not this flowery tea Hama calls mead. Trudy! Tap a round off my keg for these good folk!"

... and so it begins.

For her part, Evie enjoys the time she spends with her friends. She joins in any singing and laughter, is quick to poke fun and happy to accept any friendly jabs that are thrown her way. Heck, if there is any dancing, she will gladly join in that, as well! (Evie mentally thanks her martial arts master. Though it may not be dancing, per se, it has trained her to be light on her feet.)

However, she doesn't partake of the alcohol like the others. Oh, she drinks some. Just enough to give her a light buzz and nothing more. She simply does not have the constitution of Lya or Alex and is not able to burn through the alcohol. As much as she is enjoying this, she still feels that bit of caution that tells her, _Don't overdo it...just in case._

"Keggers! Now that's what I'm talking about," Lya laughs as she slaps her thigh. "Now if only we had some music to go with... my friends are accomplished musicians back in Midgard, you know... if we had some... I don't know what you guys have up here... lutes? Mandolins? I'm sure we could get a rousing drinking song going. Gods know when I'm about to out drink a bunch of strapping warriors like yourself I like to have musical accompaniment." She winks and playfully punches Hama in the shoulder.

The merriment is quick to kindle and spread, reminding you the Aesir are a people who treasure artistic expression as well as courage and loyalty. Various brews, from the guest house's stores as well as the private stock of some of the regulars, are brought forth and decanted.

It is an impressive table that is set forth, lacking neither drink nor sustenance. Roast fowl, ribs, carved roasts, venison ... and mead, ales, wines, liqueurs, and brandy-like offerings to quaff.

"What are the rules, my lady?" Alex smiles. "One of everything?"

There are more than a few warriors who chuckle at the notion of Lya going glass-for-glass against men (and a few women) who are closer to Alex's build than hers. A crowd gathers to watch, and some beckon to others to join in the friendly challenge. You're certain there will be coin wagered once things get rolling...

Lya smiles slyly as she pulls out a quarter from her pocket and deftly bounces it off the table before it rattles in the bottom of the mug.

Toxic laughs and passes over a mug full of mead to Alex as Lya says "Consume!"

"I can do that," Alex says. He takes a sip of his mug. "Nice flavor. Not too sweet."

A longer pull from his mug. "So how many mugs of this stuff does it normally take the rest of you to get sloppy drunk?"

He drains the rest of the mug. "That's one."

"I'll never get drunk if I'm the one doing the quarters," Lya pouts. "Phoebe! You taught me the game... how about every one you make we _all_ have to drink?"

Phoebe scoots over to sit next to Lya with a smile as she pulls her hair back into a pony tail and takes the quarter from Lya. "All right then..." she sizes up the mug carefully and puts a backspin on the quarter so it bounces off the back of the rim and into the mug. "Consume."

Evie laughs at the game and leans over to Orithia. "Really? She taught Lya?"

"This is going to be a long night," Orithia chuckles as she passes mugs of ale down the table.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Lya laughs joyfully as she takes the mug and downs the glass to a chorus of "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

One of the waitresses comes over to Toxic with a lyre in hand. "Bjorn said you were welcome to try your hand at his instrument."

Toxic snorts. "I'll be the did." She then moves over to sit at the hearth and begins tuning the instrument as Klepto is handed a small drum.

The second mug is another mead, with a stronger overtone of honey, which only seems to make the potent beverage slide down the gullet more easily.

"Easy, friend, the night is young," advised one regular. "At that rate, you'll be on the floor far too early for a summer's night."

"He's good for at least six," smirks Toxic, plinking a string to underscore the jibe.

There's a howl of amusement.

"Sounds like that's junior league around these parts," Alex said. "Oh, well. In for a penny ..." **clink**

Phoebe gives Alex a smile. "Bottoms up."

"Trust me you'll have to kick us out," Lya chuckles as she downs another mug and wipes her chin with the back of her hand.

Evie settles back into a chair and grins as she listens to everyone around her. She considers..._maybe_...telling some of the blokes betting against Lya that she's the daughter of the God of Wine, but...nah. Where would the fun in that be? Instead, she kicks back in her chair, stretches her legs out, and nurses her glass of mead.

"Aren't ye getting in on the action, lass?" asks one laughing, young man as he leans against the back of her chair (thoug he is careful not to upset the balance so that Evie falls.)

She raises an eyebrow, grins and says, "Psssh! Nope. I know my limitations. There's no way I can stand up to those two. Besides, at least one of us has to remain sober. How else am I going to tell them about all the embarrassing things they do later in the day, if I don't remember, myself?"

"We're open as long as our patrons wish to enjoy our hospitality and hearth, though our full menu is not available during the early morning watch," assures Gerra.

More quarters and more mugs of mead and ale come and are consumed in turn. Lya, Evie, and the Furies are well aware of Alex's ability to consume alcohol and not be affected, but the festivities are not about contented contemplation over a good mug of stout. It's about endurance - something the Aesir hold in high esteem.

After about the 17th mug of ale... or at least that's where Lya lost count... Phoebe runs out of quarters and Orithia grabs another lyre to sit with Toxic and Klepto by the fire as the tell-tale sounds of one of Lya's favorite drinking songs begins to till the air.

"Oh! I love this one!" Lya exclaims in giddy delight as she grabs another mug off the table and only sloshes a little bit of it onto the floor as she spins around to join the others and begins to sing.

"I play in a band, we're the best in the land... we're big in both Vegas and France..."

Toxic picks up the words next. "I play one mean guitar and then score at the bar, there's a line of men waiting for their chance."

Lya laughs and continues, "So come on now honey, I'll make you feel manly, those other guys mean nothing to me... let's finish these drinks and be gone for the night, cause I'm more than a handful, you'll see!"

She leans back and takes another drink and loses her footing before Alex steps up and wraps an arm around her to keep her from falling on her ass. She smiles and pats him gratefully on the cheek as she dips, downs her glass, and continues to sing with the Furies backing her up in the chorus...

_So kiss me, I'm shitfaced_  
_I'm soaked, I'm soiled and brown_  
_in the trousers, he kissed me_  
_And I only bought him one round!_

Lya then stands up straight and spins out of Alex's arms to continue with her hands over her heart...

_But just give me a chance, 'cause deep down inside_  
_I swear I got a big heart of gold_  
_I'm a monogamous gal, no more one night stands_  
_Come on, honey, let me take you home..._

Phoebe stands and Lya wraps her arm around Phoebe's shoulders with a wide grin as they rock back and forth and all finish the song with a belting chorus...

_So kiss me, I'm shitfaced_  
_I'm soaked, I'm soiled and brown_  
_in the trousers, he kissed me_  
_And I only bought him one round!_

The song is met with raucous applause, all the more impressive as half the crowd is in a bit of a drunken stupor.

Alex simply raises his mug and indicates he's ready for a refill.

"Another?" bellows a fellow drinker. "By the gods, where are you putting it?! I can knock back a dozen, and that's no boast, but this is half again as many!"

"I once served in a very hot and dry land," Alex laughed. "It left me with a permanent thirst."

"And fair Lya?" asks another. "If she fights as well as she drinks, may I never meet you in battle!"

"I much prefer drinking my friend," Lya chuckles as she slaps him on the back and clinks her mug with his before taking a long gulp, "and try offering my flask before the edge of a sword."

She leans in toward him and stage whispers as she gestures toward Alex. "You have to watch that one though... Loki could attach a hose from the ocean to his drinking horn and the tides might go down."

"Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling! Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes, the dead rising from the grave! Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!" Alex mutters. "Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. But first, another drink! The night is young!"

"The night isn't that young," muttered one drinker, rousing himself. He'd backed off after eight rounds.

Evie long ago finished her glass of mead. The glass sits on the table at her elbow, turned over and untouched since. Instead, she has been (relatively) quietly enjoying the raucous crowd, stomping and clapping along to songs, laughing at jokes and generally enjoying the merriment.

As everyone else continues to partake in the joyous activities, Evie stands and slips out of the tavern. It's not that she's not enjoying herself...she is! It makes her heart glad to see Lya and Alex free from worry for a time. However, Evie is who she is. The itch to get up and patrol the area...just in case...has kicked in and it's not going away until she does so. What she expects to find outside is nothing more than a quiet evening, fresh air and the sound of night birds in the distance.

The sounds of Asgard are not those of Las Vegas. It is different, and refreshing. The night sky is absent the skyglow of the Strip, and the stars shine in their full glory, a Milky Way-like band of stars arcing across the sky.

It is past midnight, but dawn is still hours away. The sounds of merriment from inside the guest house are muted. The air is cool, but not cold.

The night continues on as revelers come and go till all but a few who have passed out with their heads on the tables remain. Lya looks over to the hearth to find that Toxic and Orithia are leaning on each other as Klepto yawns , with Phoebe resting her head on her hands as she leans on the hearth in slumber.

"Damn... you think maybe we should give these guys a break?" Lya asks Alex as she nudges him on the shoulder and nods towards the sleeping Furies. "I think we've had our fun," she chuckles into her glass before downing the remnants of her mug of beer.

Evie takes a deep breath of air, finding it refreshing. She hadn't realized how stuffy it had become in the guest house with all the people and the hearth. The night air feels good against her skin.

She reaches towards the sky, stretching all the kinks out before setting off down a random street at a leisurely pace. She simply wants to walk for a bit and is not at all worried about getting lost. Thanks to her gifts, she knows her way back to the guest house.

For the most part, the town is asleep, at this hour. The vast majority of buildings are dark, businesses either closed or residents already in their beds. Light spills forth from an occasional window, indicating a night owl or insomniac is awake, but there aren't many.

Evie looks up at the stars as she meanders, taken by the beauty. The last time she saw the night like this was when her family visited Four Corners and she lay upon a blanket at the top of the mesa. That had been wonderfully free of light pollution, as well.

As she nears what seems to be a small park with trees and bushes, she hears a muffled sound. Curious, she steps lightly in the direction of some sheltering trees. What greets her sight is a pair of lovers, softly speaking sweet words and kissing.

Heimdallsdottir smiles to herself and backs away just as quietly, not wishing to intrude. The two should have their privacy. After all the violence and destruction that she's seen over the past few days...errr...months...damn Hel for screwing up time!...it's good to see moments of tenderness. And, it's just as important that they not be disturbed.

Evie continues her circuitous stroll, eventually starting to wend back towards the guest house. As nice as the walk had been, it's about time for her to get to bed.

"Yeah," Alex grins. "I'm surprised I'm not floating away. And when did you start being able to pack it away like that?"

It is with some relief that the server tasked with tending to guests realizes you're calling things at an end, even as they laud you for your epic feat.

"I wouldn't be surprised to hear your names praised by innkeepers and professional drunkards alike," she smiles. "You made a few of the regulars some good money, you did. Sleep well."

Alex pays out several gold coins. "For your kindness in staying up through the night."

"My Lord, I cannot accept that! It's too much!"

"Please," Alex reassures her. "I made a bit of coin, myself."  
He gently gathers Phoebe up in his arms; she only murmurs in her sleep and buries her face against his shoulder.

"Do I need to make several trips?" he asks Lya.

"After our last outing I couldn't let the fact that you out-drank everybody stand, Alex. It was a matter of familial pride," Lya laughs as she walks over to the others and nudges Toxic and Orithia. "Come on guys, either you make it back to the room on your own or I take photos of Alex carrying the both of you over his shoulders."

Toxic snorts and jerks herself awake at Lya's words, leaving Orithia to catch herself before she falls over. "I'm awake damn it... I'm awake..."

"Yeah I thought so," Lya replies with a smile as she offers Toxic a hand and helps her up. Klepto yawns and stretches as she stands before offering a similar hand to Orithia. "Let's find Evie and call it a night."

"For the mess and letting us use your instruments," Lya calls out to the waitress as she exchanges the cup full of quarters that would be of no use to them with some extra gold coins.

"Well, that's good. I hate drinking alone," Alex quips. "I think Evie stepped out for some fresh air. I can wait up if need be."

It's not too long before Evie pushes open the door and strolls back into the now empty guesthouse. Spotting Alex still sitting at a table nearby, she grins and jokes, "It's true! I am the life of the party. I step out for a few minutes and BAM! Party death."

She plunks herself down into a chair beside him and looks around, "Huh. I guess everyone else has already gone to bed?"

"Yeah. The others went upstairs just a few minutes ago," he chuckles. "Though Gemma wouldn't say it, I think she's pretty happy that we finally called it. People were getting tired."

"Ah, well...I'll settle up with Gemma and Hama for the mead in the morning," Evie yawns and stretches. "Come on. Let's get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow holds, eh?"

"Yeah, I think the last time I slept was six months ago. And that ended with my house getting blown up and being turned into a mystical anchor," Alex grumbles. "Even just four hours would be nice."

"That's right," Evie pauses as she stands and slides her chair under the table. "The Alex we had wasn't _you._"

She makes a small, irritated sound...it's a sound that she's making more and more often as Hel crosses her mind. Before, she had figured that the Underworld deity was just messing with them because...why not? But, she's starting to wonder if Hel has a true stake in what happens.

Wiping out all humans on Earth would net her a relatively small number of souls for her realm. Earth's population probably doesn't hold many that follow the Nordic religions. Of course, what with Fimbulwinter almost happening, that could've changed but, still...not that many, she would wager. But, if Asgard were destroyed...

She shakes her head, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind. She will think about it tomorrow. Tonight is a night of rest.

"Come on," she gently pushes Alex between his shoulder blades, nudging him towards bed and sleep. "Grumblepants must sleep now!"

_Or,_ she thinks as the two of them mount the stairs up to their rooms, _...or, was Hel actually helping us in a weird way. By giving us alternate Alex, we had an 'extra' to break the anchor. What would've happened to Lya or me if we had done the same thing?_


	35. We're Off to See the Wizard

No alarm clocks. No crowing roosters. No church bells. Alex had drawn the curtains so there was only a faint corona of sunlight outlining the window. He was quite comfortable not having to get up.

Though, he'd roused just enough that he started thinking about things. He doubted Lyman was done trying to bring about Ragnarok, and wondered what other opportunities for mischief had been exploited, especially since Lyman wasn't the only Scion pitted against them.

He'd have to get the Cliff's Notes version from Evie or Lya.

He knew he'd been used as some kind of anchor to tie a corner of Asgard to Earth - Midgard - which had to be no small task. He was just coming into his powers, yet his blood was enough to power that kind of working?

And why had Lyman left the birthrights that unlock- oh. Of course. If he'd taken them, then Alex was little more than a mortal, and not a Scion.

He doubted the locals did anything like go for a morning run, but there were some simple calisthenics he could do - perhaps not something a warrior has to be concerned with, but a lawyer stuck behind a desk? He'd had friends who had taken desk jobs and lost their edge. And others, like some of the DI's, kept in fighting trim through their 50's.

There's the sound of faint moans and the rustling of furs and flesh from the pile on the bed as Lya flops out from under them face first onto the cold wood floor. "Ow. Alex..." she groans, "please tell me they have coffee in Asgard... or I might think we're actually in Hel's domain again."

"I can't imagine the All-Father roaming the Nine Worlds and not bringing back coffee," Alex nods. "And despite drinking enough to float a barge or two, I'm actually hungry."

"Yes!" she replies as a thumbs up gesture is seen over the side of the bed. "I've seen the hogs... therefore there must be bacon! That's definitely a quest worth getting off the floor for...eventually..."

Evie grins and rolls over, pulling the blankets even tighter about her as she sighs languidly. She opens her eyes just a little, thinks about getting out of bed and then mutters to herself, "Nah. Ten more minutes won't kill anyone."

Then she seems to reconsider, turning back to peer at Alex and what she can see of Lya over the blanket that is pulled up over her face like a giant, fuzzy ninja mask, "But...bacon..."

"Let me get dressed, and I'll go down and ask about breakfast," Alex says.

He doesn't have to fumble with his clothes - things aren't that different in Asgard, and he's not donning armor. Alex is done in a handful of minutes, and heads downstairs.

He's back in fifteen minutes, a soft rap on the door before he enters. "It's on. It's like a buffet at one of the casinos, except for the seafood and fruit."

"Sorry floor... our time together was nice, but it's not you...it's me," Lya mutters as she pushes herself off the floor to sit back on her knees and do her best to smooth back her now frizzy braid. Thankfully she'd managed to get her armor off before collapsing on the bed last night and with a quick sniff she discovers her under shirt and breeches aren't too worse for wear.

"Come on, guys.." she shoves at the pile of furs and voices groan in response. "We're not at the hotel, so if you want breakfast you need to shift it."

"Slave driver..." Toxic mutters as she rolls out from under the blankets in a sports bra and shorts. "Move it, Orithia..." she commands as she puts her foot to one of the piles and shoves.

"Gods damn you to Tartarus, Toxic!" Orithia cries as she falls out of bed on the other side and lands on her ass.

"Keep your curses for the one who tells you they're out of coffee," Toxic snorts as she offers Orithia a hand up.

"Coffee?" Phoebe asks as she shoves her curls out of her face and sits up.

"There better be coffee," Klepto replies groggily. "I'll grind the beans with my fists if I have to!"

Evie rolls out of bed, blankets falling at her feet. She yawns and stretches, trying to get the blood flowing. Turning her back to Alex, she shucks out of her Midgardian shirt (which is doubling as a nightshirt) and gets into her Asgardian clothes.

Once she is dressed, she heads towards the door, ready to go on downstairs, "Bacon, ho!"

"Yeah let's get this day started," Lya agrees as the Furies quickly pull on their pants and run fingers through messy hair as they join Lya to stumble out the door into the brisk fresh air.

"Other than breakfast... what's the plan, anyway? Do we see about getting a direct line back home, or did we want to try and get some questions answered while we're here?" she scratches her head and laughs. "I doubt they're going to care to listen to me... but you two are scions from here so maybe they'll give you guys some consideration. At the very least, I figured you all would want to talk to your dads."

As an afterthought, Evie runs her hands through her hair, giving a half-hearted attempt at taming the bed-head that she knows she has even without looking in a mirror, "I'd definitely like to get a chance to talk to Heimdall, if I can. Of course, that's up to him. I mean, he's a god. If he decides he doesn't want to talk, there's not much I can do other than sing the Meow Mix song at the top of my lungs and include 'Heimdall' somewhere in there so that I am constantly invoking him...But I imagine that would make him even less likely to want to speak."

She tilts her head and cups one ear, dropping her voice a bit to try to imitate Heimdall, "What's that? You actually need my help now? Shoulda thought about that before you stuck a cat food commercial in my head. Suck it up, buttercup!"

"Gods I'm going to have that in my head all day now," Lya groans as she playfully swats at Evie's shoulder. "If he can see everything like the stories say... I'd be curious if he can see what happened to Hitoshi, you know? Not to mention Lyman himself."

Lya grows quiet for a moment and rubs her arms as a shiver rolls down her spine. "Those visions I had... I can't help but feel that we only stopped one small piece of a greater puzzle... and temporarily at that. If Lyman really is trying to bring about Ragnarok... surely the Gods will have _something_ to say... right? Aren't they all fated to die along with the rest of us?"

Evie laughs and scrunches up her shoulders, pretending to avoid the swat. Her chuckles fade quickly, though, and she sighs, "I would think so, yeah. He should be able to see everything but...Lyman is (was?)...clever. He might be able to hide more from Heimdall than we'd like to think. Plus, just like we have the help of our parents, I'm sure he has backing from more powerful beings, as well."

"At any rate, I'm hoping that he can at least tell us what has happened to Hitoshi and Vegas in our absence. The last thing I want is another nasty surprise like we got when we left Hel's realm."

She pauses puts a hand on Lya's shoulder, "I think you are right. It was just one piece of something greater. But, we knocked out a freakin' castle full of einjehar and frost giants. We can take down whatever else stands in our way, too."

Evie smiles encouragingly and gives Lya a squeeze. Does the detective actually believe that they can save the whole, damn world? Honestly, she doesn't know. That's a tall order to fill and they are just a handful of people. But, it does no good to believe that they can't. No matter what, all of them will _try,_ Evie is sure of that. She has to believe that they are capable of it.

"Tyr wasn't terribly forthcoming with the explanations when we first met. Generals don't always tell the troops every last detail, even when they're family," Alex said. "I don't know that he'd be in residence, either. I get the feeling he's wherever his ... business ... takes him."

He looks up at the ceiling. "Heimdall is supposed to see everything. Lyman may have been hiding his castle from the gods, but Heimdall has to know you're here, at least. I suppose we can ask how to get to Bifrost, because apart from hitching a ride with Hrofgar, that's the way home."

"Sounds like a plan, to me," Evie says. "Let's get some food and then find out where the Bifrost is."

The smells of a hearty breakfast waft up to greet you. As Alex described, it's a Vegas buffet without the decorative bits of fruit. Not to say that there isn't fruit, but the precisely-sectioned oranges, slice apples, and cubes of pineapple aren't in evidence.

More importantly, there's coffee.

"Blessed manna of the Gods!" Lya exclaims as she makes a bee-line for the coffee and pours multiple mugs that she precariously balances in her arms as she makes her way back to their bench where Phoebe passes a steaming mug to a grateful Toxic.

"This is what I call breakfast!" Klepto exclaims as she places a plate stacked with bacon, sausage, and various slabs of meat in the middle of their table for everyone to grab from. Orithia follows close behind with a handful of apples and a loaf of bread.

"Wish I could bring this stuff back to the hotel for everybody," Lya mutters as she gnaws at a juicy rib.

"You can't do everything for everyone all the time," Phoebe reminds Lya with a gentle smile as she sips her coffee. "With any luck, the snows will have passed along with Lyman's castle... so maybe the food situation won't be as bad as we left it."

"There are a couple of possibilities," Alex mused. "One, we go back home and find the place thawing out after a six-month blizzard. The neighborhood where the castle was is probably gone."  
"Or, this is major league ball and we're just coming up from Triple-A. Hel was messing with Loki because he's threatening the status quo. When Hrofgar said, 'that's never happened before,' it was because we jumped back to _our_ world and _our_ reality."

"Mercy, Alex... you're talking about alternate realities and I haven't even finished my first cup of coffee yet," Lya chuckles.

"I can't tell if it's the coffee or last night's drinking," Alex smiles. "My ... other self didn't do anything embarrassing, did he?"

Evie, not being a sports fan, just sort of nods at the ball reference. She has no idea what any of the sports references mean but she can easily infer that the gist of it is that we're still a long way from winning. This ain't small potatoes.

She frowns and chews thoughtfully at a sausage, "So, wait...what do you mean _our reality?_ Wasn't our reality what we saw - winter, a huge castle, lots of destruction and chaos?"

"So, this isn't just a timey-wimey, thing...it's a _Sliders_ different reality thing?"

"We won't know until we go back, I think. I'm not a Time Lord," Alex muses. "Besides, you were running around with an alternate me, so why not? And if that means Lyman's Big Play to bring about Ragnarok didn't go off the way he wanted, good. We just have to figure out where he's gone and what he's going to try next."

Lya shrugs. "You were pretty normal for the most part when I saw the other you, Alex... other than, you know... that shroud of death thing. Now I can't say anything about when he was alone with Phoebe..." there's a thud from under the table and Lya sucks in a breath as she winces, "or when he took off to hang with the military encampment when they found out you were back... but from the newscasts it looked like Other Alex was quite determined to save the day."

She smiles and playfully nudges his shoulder. "Just goes to show... even when they fake being you, they end up doing such a good job that they can't help becoming the hero that you are, Alex."

"So let me get this straight..." Toxic adds. "Are you suggesting that everything that happened once we left Hel's domain was just one big false event put on for the benefit of Lyman to keep him out of her hair, and we just got caught up in it?"

"I don't think so," Alex answered. "Let's say Lyman blows up my house and carts me off to be some magical lynchpin tying Midgard to Asgard, but he's doing it in another dimension or parallel timeline, or whatever. Hel takes you through her domain and spits you back out where you're in a position to derail Lyman's plans, because if he destroys Asgard, he fucks up Valhalla and Hell as well and probably causes problems throughout the Nine Worlds.

"But Earth has nuclear weapons. Maybe this is some centuries-long plan - pitting men and nations against one another to lead to the creation of weapons of war that make swords and shields useless. Tyr, Ares, whomever - may not have seen it coming, or the Titans employing the human ingenuity at war may just be an unintended consequence.

"If they have to mash some universes together to get what they want, they'll do it."

"Well, regardless, it'll be interesting to see what we come back to," Evie says. "Now that I'm pretty much doubting not only my own timeline but what dimension I'm in, I think the only thing to do is just roll with it."

She chuckles and shakes her head as she dunks a biscuit in some gravy and sops the savory mess up.

Evie pops the last bit of sausage from her plate into her mouth and stands, wiping the grease from her fingers onto her pants. She goes over to the person in charge this morning and asks, "So, I have a question. How would one get to the Bifrost from here?"

"Main road out of town, can't miss it," says Gerra. "It's not a secret. Still, it's not a leisurely morning stroll. You'll want horses provisioned for a day's ride. We can take care of the provisions, but you'll have to talk to Erik down at the stables."

"Great, so now we've got to worry about Lyman trying to start Ragnarok in _multiple_ dimensions just to see if one of them will take in ours," Lya groans before downing the last of her coffee. "Hopefully Heimdall can help us get this all straight, because my visions have been a bit vague on the details, you know?"

"I guess the good news is if we were in a different dimension, that means our Vegas might not have been decimated by the snow," Orithia offers.

"What about all those people we left, though?" Phoebe wonders. "If we end up returning to our own dimension... who is going to help them?"

"Yeah..." Lya mutters as she gnaws on a piece of bacon. "Good question..."

"Thanks," she smiles at Gerra and then makes a soft 'oh!' sound. "I almost forgot. Let me settle up with you for the mead and mug. And, I don't know how much Hama wanted for his mead, too. But, hopefully, this will cover everything." Evie hands some coins over to Gerra, just guestimating on how much everything should be. If anything, she probably offers too much. After all, what is she going to do with Asgardian money back in Vegas?

Evie wanders back to the table with news about the Bifrost, too late to hear Lya and Phoebe's comments, "Looks like it should be easy enough to get to the Bifrost. It's about a day's ride out. Gerra can pack us food and we can get horses from Erik at the stables."

Alex stares at his plate for a moment.

"If time is like a river, I can drop a pebble in the river, no big deal. But if I plunk a great big boulder down, the river splits, goes around the boulder ... and rejoins on the other side," he says.

"So, if I get up on the right side of the bed versus the left side, that's tossing a pebble. Sure, that means a different version of reality, but it's not a significant difference. But if it comes down to a world leader being assassinated, or a nuclear bomb being dropped, that's the boulder.

"And so we might be looking at the two versions of Vegas slamming into each other. Things could change drastically."

"So... like... bits of each universe might meld together into a new one?" Lya asks as she weaves her fingers together. "But you were the anchor between the dimensions, right? Without you... wouldn't they be all separate again?"

"This is getting all a bit much for me," says Toxic. "I say we take a ride and see what Heimdal can explain to us."

"I think I may have been used to cause the split," Alex frowns. "Or hide whatever Lyman was doing. It's stuff like this that made Odin sacrifice his eye at the Well of Mimir. So, I'm with Toxic. Let's go ring Heimdall's doorbell."

"Then let's get this show on the road," Evie turns and starts to head towards the door but then pauses. Turning back, she asks, "Do you guys have any experience horseback riding? Any preferences as far as tack? Well...not that we'll definitely have choices. We'll take whatever Erik has. But, just in case..."

It's not like Evie has a ton of experience, herself. She has ridden casually on outing with friends and family, but has no real training. However, she does know that there are different types of saddles and bridles. She figures that it's best to ask before she goes. Even if she doesn't know what the others are talking about if they ask for something specific, she can always ask for details and pass that on to Erik. (After all, what things are called on Earth may be different than what they are called in Asgard.)

"Been on a recreational ride before," Alex said. "If the horse is broken to a bit, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Do I _look_ like I've ever rode a horse?" Lya snorts as they head out the door. "I prefer my horsepower to come from engines thank you very much."

"We tried to teach her once... it wasn't pretty," Orithia mock whispers to Evie before quickly moving ahead of the others and out of reach.

"The next time I want to ride something that bucks that much, I'll take them out to dinner first," Lya chuckles.

"A wagon might slow us down. Can you ride double with one of the Furies?" Alex asks. "'Cause, as John Wayne would put it, 'We're burning daylight.'*"

Klepto claps a hand on Lya's shoulder as she declares "I'll make sure she doesn't fall off this time."

The wagers you collected on the previous night more than pay for the additional expense of horses, which you choose to rent - just in case you end up making a trip back to Vegas. Well, to _a_ Vegas.

The road is well-traveled and broad, so there is time for a measured pace that allows Lya to become accustomed to riding. Alex and Toxic ride to the front in a bounding overwatch, with Evie and Klepto carrying Lya in the middle, and Orithia and Phoebe riding last.

But the Bifrost isn't just a metaphor. It's a stone bridge with massive gates of gold and crystal at its midpoint. Sunlight shining onto the bridge and through the gate refracts the light into ... rainbows.

An armed contingent greets you at the base of the bridge.

"Ho, Travellers! I am Stellan, Captain of Heimdall's Watch. What business have you upon the Bifrost?"

"Good day, Captain," Evie dismounts and moves to stand before the soldier. The last thing she wants to do is loom over him on her horse. That's hardly respectful.

"I am Evie Heimdallsdottir. We were hoping to speak to Heimdall about happenings in Midgard, if he would allow us an audience," she smiles and adds. "Plus, the Bifrost is probably going to be our way home."

"I bid you welcome, Heimdalsdottir," Stellan smiles. "You may pass, as may the others. Another of you is Aesir, and the third is of a kind. I would learn your names."

"I am Alex Tyrsson," Alex says without dismounting.

"Honored," Stellan replies.

Klepto helps Lya off the horse with an extended arm before she walks up to Stellan with a grin and outstretched hand. "Dionysusdottir is a bit of a mouthful, so you can just call me Lya. I appreciate you guys being all nice and all what with me being from a different...um... clan, I guess."

"We are recognized by our deeds in life," Stellan says. "Heimdall saw your efforts in staving off Fimbulwinter. You have our thanks, and our respect ... Lya. I would raise a glass in your honor, but I understand you and Tyrsson have already done so."

"I think we raised enough glasses to honor all the inhabitants of Asgard," Lya chuckles, "but the sentiment is much appreciated. So do we just follow the rainbow road here and we'll run into Heimdall eventually?"

"Heimdall stands at the apex of Bifrost, just past the gates," Stellan tells you. "But do not stray past the Vantage if you do not wish to depart the realm."

"Thank you, Captain," Evie nods her thanks, smiling to the man before she moves back to her horse. The pats the animal on the neck, scratching at the fur thoughtfully before she turns back to ask. "Is it far to the Vantage? Should we take the horses?"

"It's about a mile to the Vantage, my Lady. I would take the horses, because you do not have a destination in mind, and you do not know to where you may be sent. If you depart and the horses remain behind, we will see them returned to Master Erik."

Even though the 'my lady' just sounds weird to Evie, she doesn't bother correcting Stellan. If she knew that she would be working with him for any length of time, she would knock that right out of his head (just the same as she had to do with Hitoshi and his 'Detective Cartwrighting'...constant reminders!) However, since this is most likely the last time she'll see him, she lets it slide.

"Thanks, Captain. I appreciate it. If we end up taking the horses with us, for whatever reason, I'll be sure to leave behind compensation for Erik. I'd feel bad just absconding with his horses," she smiles and climbs back into her saddle.

At first, The Bifrost doesn't seem that different from other stone bridges. Until you realize the joint work is different - precise lines joined without mortar, the structure held together by its own weight. And as you near the Vantage, there's a current in the air, the feel of a pending storm.

The size of the Great Gate becomes evident - it's at least six stories in height, and the match of any bank vault door. The crystal, though of an equal thickness, is clear. The sunlight from the Asgard side lenses through the crystal, creating myriad rainbows on the other side ... but within the crystal, there are intimations of other worlds. Flickers. Ghosts. Phantoms of things that are and are not real.

Heimdall stands just beyond the gate's threshold, the Vantage from which he watches over the Nine Worlds. He is clad in golden armor, and he stands with his hands resting upon the hilt of his sword.

Beside him stands another figure clad in a thick grey cloak, a staff or spear in his hand. They seem to be engaged in conversation.

"... trying to force the issue by derailing other realities. It's a mess," says Heimdall.

"My wayward son is mistaken in his beliefs," the other man says. "Your sight is not limited by such artifice, and mine was gained at great cost. We know how things will transpire."

"All-Father," whispers Alex.

Evie nods and whispers in return, "I've met him, once. Seems a nice enough fellow, though I doubt he or Heimdall would appreciate us eavesdropping. Why don't we move back a ways? They know we're here. They'll call us when they are ready."

"That would be now," Odin says. "We've been expecting you."

Evie dismounts, giving her steed a pat on the neck as she passes him on her way to stand before the two gods.

_Where do I even begin?_ she thinks to herself. _I have so many questions and they all sort of run together. I'm not sure there is even a logical starting point with all of it._

She comes to a stop before her celestial father and grandfather, "Dad...All-Father, it's good to see you both, again."

She is silent for a few moments, trying to marshal her thoughts. Evie isn't concerned that either of them will be offended by her silence or her bluntness when she does start asking questions. They both know her, her thoughts, her manners. She doesn't seek to offend either. Rather, she simply seeks answers.

"So, all this timey-wimey business. What's up with that?" she finally asks. "We know that there is a push to bring about Ragnarok by messing with alternate realities. But, how does it all work? I mean...there have been theories floating about Midgard about time travel and alternate dimensions for awhile, but we don't know for certain how it all happens."

Looking to Alex, she says, "Alex here has a good theory about it. And, if he's right, things are going to get super messy...**messier**...down the road, we're thinking."

"Plus, Lya has had some disturbing visions which seem to indicate that this was just the beginning of it all."

"Everything is possible," says Heimdall. "There's a reality where you bled out and died after your accident, Evie. There are several realties where you didn't slip and fall at all. There are realities where you made Detective, and others where you didn't. These are all reflections.

"What Loki is doing is ... cherry picking those reflections. Giving life to things that weren't anything more than a coin toss, a ripple in the water. And suddenly, you have a politician here, a military man there, other people of import who will do specific things that hasten Ragnarok."

The All-Father chuckles. "Ragnarok comes whether we want it or not. Loki is trying to carve out a destiny where he doesn't meet his end with your hands around his throat, Heimdall."

"So, if these are all reflections, then is there a reality that is...I'm not even sure how to say it..._truer? more real? meant to be?_" she looks between the two. "The way Alex described it is like time being a river. You drop a pebble in and there are a few ripples. No big deal. You drop a boulder in, and the river splits...but eventually they come back together. Is that right?"

"Or, are all of these reflections as real and true as any other reality? Are they splinters that take on a life of their own? New rivers, so to speak."

She pauses and frowns, trying to get a handle on it all, "I guess what I am trying to figure out is exactly how much damage Loki is doing. It's a giant cluster right now, yeah...but is he working against a clock, trying to get everything into position before the river merges again or is he forging something entirely new so that it need not be a race?"

"That, and I need to figure out what happened in our own reality. At this point, I am completely confused as to whether the castle happened in our timeline-dimension or if Hel spit us out somewhere-time else entirely in order to fuck with Loki."

Evie is so lost in thought that it doesn't register that she's starting to speak to the two gods as if they were fellow officers. She grins sheepishly and clears her throat, "Ahem..ahh...pardon the language."

"Pardon me sirs, Lya Bach here and I'm grateful for being able to visit your fine establishment," Lya introduces herself with a small curtsey. "I am curious... you talk of Loki's machinations... yet fail to mention Loki's son, Lyman. We thought we were dealing with Loki's scion... were we mistaken?"

"Loki doesn't have a son. At least, not one of his flesh and blood," Heimdall says. "At the same time, his own reputation can be problematic when it comes to making and breaking deals, whether they be with Scions or mortals."

Odin has nothing to say about his errant offspring. "One way of looking at different realities, Evie, is to consider Ragnarok an inevitability. It _will_ happen. To borrow Tyrsson's example, time is a river. There are times where its course is calm, and others where the current is fast and treacherous.

"Hel made it possible for you to interfere with Loki's plans, though she is not the only one to have intervened. Because there are still forces pushing events forward, it is not possible to go 'back.' But neither is it likely that he can bring anything to the table that would dissuade you."

"So, there can't be any _Groundhog Days_ where we live the same thing over and over until it happens the way we want. What happens, happens and we still have to go forward," she murmurs aloud, considering Odin's words. "That explains Hel shooting us into the future."

Silently, she thinks, _Hel, I apologize for my misgivings about you. I was still in the dark and didn't understand fully. Your method was...unconventional... and I couldn't see it for what it was. Thank you._

"Do you know what happened to Hitoshi?" she asks. "He went into the castle ahead of us to deal with Lyman...whoever he is...and we haven't seen him since. We're hoping that he got out before the castle was destroyed."

"My vision showed him potentially under the influence of Loki as he may unwittingly help his plans," Lya adds worriedly. "I fear he may be given what he's wanted in this life without knowing the price."

Evie sighs and says, "Hitoshi is a good guy. Hopefully, he'll still be able to keep the big picture in mind, no matter what is happening to him, right now."

As an afterthought, she says, "So...what was it that Hjogar called Lyman...Laufeyson? Does that name mean anything?"

"It is no different than Heimdallsdottir or Tyrsson - it means Son of Laufey, Lord of the Frost Giants," Odin says. "I fostered him as liege lord, not in the hopes of rehabilitating him, but as my own lesson in trying to carve out a different fate. Such is possible, but never without sacrifice and great cost."

"So Ragnarok is fated to happen... I get that... but the _hell_ if it has to happen on our watch," Lya says with grim determination before remembering who she's talking to and looking at the two gods with chagrin. "I mean... there's nothing in your prophecies that says it has to happen right now, does it? So that means we should be able to stop Loki... right? We obviously can't go hopping dimensions like he does without the help of the gods... so if you could help us see what he's doing, Mister Heimdall sir, it would be greatly appreciated."

"He is combing the worlds to find realities and commodities to exploit," Heimdall says. "And you may have seen true in your fears about your friend. If you wish to look, you may - but this is not a thing of prophecy; it is what is happening _now._"

"Oh, now he's done it," Klepto makes an aside to the rest of you. "She _has _to look."

"But it's not Delphi," Phoebe said. "It's the _now._ We can't change anything, can we? Don't we need to see what is coming?"

"Knowing where you are, my dear," says Odin, "Is essential to knowing where you're going."

"I will guide your sight," Heimdall tells Lya. "Alex, Evie, join us. See what Loki undertakes."

For a moment, all you see are the swirling mists ...

"Otoko oya!" a young girl, perhaps 5 years of age, exclaims. "I knew it was you."

"Oh? And how is that?" Hitoshi smiles.

"Because your footsteps are heavier than mine," another voice says. A woman approaches. She is unmistakably the girl's mother, and Hitoshi's wife. Wife? He favors her with a heartfelt smile.

"Are you joining us for lunch?" she asks.

"No. I have a lunch meeting with James," Hitoshi says.

"So desu ka," she says.

"I don't think I've ever seen him look that content," Lya breathes. "Loki's given him his heart's desire. The woman he failed to save. Bastard."

"His is not the only hand behind this," Heimdall warns. "Look closer."

And, at the hazy edges of your vision, you can see tendrils of shadow clinging to the woman and the child, like strings on a puppet. Neither is precisely what they seem, but illusions given form and life through someone else's machinations.

And you have the feeling that any conversation about their 'not being real' or pawns in a greater game will not go well ...

"Dammit..." Lya mutters as she shakes her head. "This is exactly what I was afraid of after my vision... Hitoshi is quickly becoming another piece of Loki's puzzle to put Ragnarok together. I'm kind of surprised about Izanami's influence, though... what would she get out of Ragnarok?"

"Maybe she just wants him," Toxic replies with a shrug.

"He is the son of a god," Phoebe reminds Lya in an attempt to console her. "He will not be so easily corrupted, no matter who is attempting their manipulations."

"For all of our sake I hope you're right," Lya sighs. "As much as I worry, there's just too much going on for us to focus on one person right now. We don't even know what happened to the world we left when the castle disappeared. The fact that we gave those people hope again only to disappear on them is sticking in my craw, you know?"

She turns to Heimdall with a hopeful look. "Could you let us see what's see what's happening to the world we left?"

Evie sighs, "I certainly hope that he's strong enough to see past the puppet show. But, if he doesn't...I don't think that I could blame him."

Even though Evie does not know even a fraction of the story of what happened to Hitoshi in the past, Lya's statement is enough for her to understand what this probably represents for their friend. This woman...he was unable to save her from something. Now, here she is, alive and well and the two of them have a child. Who wouldn't be tempted by such?

"Hey, we've only been gone for a day. I think. Maybe. I don't know how time flows here, but I'm sure that Heimdall could send us back as close to when we left as he could. That is...if we need to go back there," she lays a sympathetic hand upon Lya's shoulder. "It's entirely possible that we may need to go to another reality to fix something else. And, if we do...well...that's the best that we can do for everyone across all realities. Even if they can't see us helping them, we still are. And, the people we left behind have each other."

At that last statement, Evie's heart sinks. She realizes that it's entirely possible, if they must go to these other dimensions, that she may never again see the people she loves Or, at least, not _her_ loved ones in _her reality._

The view shifts to a more familiar Las Vegas. It's the morning after the explosion, with fire crews still walking the site to address flare-ups and hot spots.

"There are still a few residents missing. We're hoping they weren't home - away on vacation. We have six firefighters in the hospital, one in serious condition," the fire chief was saying.

"Evie, this is Saul. I know you were at the fire last night, but no one seems to know where you are. Gimme a call, 'kay?"

"... a gas main that had recently been worked on. Officials at NV Energy are expected to hold a press conference this afternoon. Megan Whitaker, KLAS."

"Wait, wait...I think I'm confused," Evie frowns as she gazes upon the images.

"So, this is our timeline, yes? This is after Alex's neighborhood exploded," she tilts her head to the side. "So, did things reset after we destroyed the anchor in the castle? Is this the river of time rejoining on the other side of the boulder, so to speak? The castle is gone, so it's like it didn't happen?"

"Or, was what we were in a completely different reality that has spun off into its own...thing? Are there people still dealing with the aftermath of that almost-Fimbulwinter?"

"I think that's what Alex was talking about Evie," Lya answers. "When we came out of Hel's dimension she shunted us to the timeline where Loki attempted to bring on Fimbrulwinter in order for us to try and stop it. Alex had been pulled from our timeline to be used in that new one to anchor all the timelines together so all the bits Loki's done in each can form his version of Ragnarok."

Lya scratches her head for a moment. "At least I think that's what he was saying. He _was_ trying to explain it before I finished my coffee."

Evie frowns and makes a small, irritated sound. Then, a slight smirk graces her lips and, crossing her arms, she playfully nudges Lya's shoulder with her own, "Is it too late (or early) for me to start drinking? Because if there's anything out there that's finally going to drive me to the bottle, it's this shit."

She takes a deep breath and says, "Okay. So...that means...what? All the other timelines are set right because the anchor was cut? Now, we just have to deal with our own timeline again?"

"But, Hitoshi is obviously still stuck in another timeline. So...the other timelines still exist...but are no longer linked?"

"Million dollar question right there," Lya replies as she hands her a flask with a wink.

"Oy," mutters Alex. "I think I understand. Loki blows up my house. Boom, there's our boulder. But, impatient bastard that he is, he used me to pull the two timelines back together. He just needed something from the other reality. Beats me what that might be, though."

"And my guess is that Hitoshi is even further down the road, but with the added incentive of a wife who doesn't exist in our world. So, I was hanging around for six months or so, and don't remember anything 'I' was doing. Hitoshi might be going through something similar, and the best way to get someone to make a bad decision is not to give them all the facts."

"Probably a big ol' nuclear warhead," Lya mutters. "So... if Hitoshi is off in this other timeline... what's going on with ours now? The castle in the middle of Vegas kind of gave us a big thing to focus on... we've got no idea what Loki's plans might be now, though... other than potentially starting World War III."

"Well, it looks like the castle hasn't happened in our world," she gestures to the scenes still flickering before them, showing the aftermath of the explosion from the evening before.

"Because Lya thought to change the combination they were trying to get and we messed up his chance to use that doppelganger, I would assume that Lyman wasn't able to get those warheads in the other world. He would've had to have come up with a different plan and acted on it very swiftly in order to get everything in place before we destroyed the anchor," Evie takes a sip from Lya's flask as she thinks aloud. "I think we thoroughly fucked that up for Loki."

"But, Loki is clever enough to not put all his eggs in one basket. Hence, Hitoshi. And, who knows what else in other realities? So, the big question is: where do we go from here? Do we go home and try to figure out what to do from there? Do we try to contact Hitoshi in this other reality? Or do we go somewhere else entirely?"

Evie distractedly hands Lya's flask back to her with a small 'thanks' before turn to Heimdall, "Have you seen anything else in any other realities that you would mark as suspicious? Not just 'this is a different reflection' but 'somebody is messing with this?"

"You may find 'suspicious' to be surprisingly personal," Heimdall said. "To find mortals of influence is not difficult, but it takes time to groom them to be of any particular use. Many of the heroes in your pantheon were educated by Chiron, for example. Scions, on the other hand, have power and fate places them at the center of things.

"So all of this bullshit with the gangs wasn't to test us or get us out of the way, it was to ... create ripples?" Alex frowns.

"Essentially, yes."

Alex presses the heels of his hands against his temples. "So what happened in Hel's domain - she wasn't - I'm not ...?"

"You are Alex North, the Son of Tyr. Hel turned Loki's own machinations against him by exploiting those same ripples to create a copy of you which would act in your absence," Heimdall explained.

"So instead of a ripple turning out in Loki's favor, it contributed to my rescue," Alex nods. "So, as Evie asked, is there anything else being messed with? Do we have to save other version of ourselves?"

"Not at the present moment, but I cannot see into the future," Heimdall warns.

"Well that still leaves the question of 'What do we do now,'" Lya replies as she takes the flask back from Evie and takes a drink. "If our world is still dealing with the" she raises her hands and makes air quotes _"gas main_explosion then we'd be practically back to Square One if we went home... other than knowing that Loki was creating Jotunblut under Alex's house. I wouldn't know where to start to try and stop Loki then."

She takes an even bigger sip. "If we go back to the world we came from we could still help people... but as far as we can tell we've stopped whatever plans Loki had there. So the only other thing we know that Loki is actively doing is messing with Hitoshi."

She looks at Odin, who has remained rather quiet through all of this, with a raised brow. "Unless you've got something you'd like to add?"


	36. Schrodinger's Imaginary Cat

"I do, but you may not like it," Odin says. "The future is not barred to our vision. We are gods, and you are our children. If you are willing, I will take you to a place where you can see the future beyond prophecy ... for a price."

"All-Father, they are just coming into their powers," Heimdall says, sternly. "This could break them."

"I can only show them the door. It is up to them if they wish to walk through it," Odin says.

"Hmmn... am I going to have to start looking into fashionable eye patches? Or will the price be different depending on who's asking?" Lya chuckles as the Furies look on with growing concern at their leader.

"You seriously thinking about this, Lya?" Toxic asks as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"You father's visions have been difficult enough on you," Phoebe warns.

Lya sighs. "Well... what do you guys think?" She asks as she turns to Alex and Evie. "If we're not in this together, there's no point."

Sighing, Evie's gaze drifts to the images once more. Saul has put away his phone and is moving through the crowds, trying to keep everything as orderly and sane as possible. Not only may she never see him, again, she may also lose her mind if they go through with this. Or, at the very least, she may not be the same person that used to hang out with him and watch terrible ScyFy Channel movies on their nights off.

However, if she doesn't...Ragnarok ahead of schedule. As one very wise Vulcan once said, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of few."

Steeling herself, she looks to Lya, "We need to fully know and understand what is going on if we are going to stop Loki. Every hour that we spend flailing around in the dark is another hour that he gets to keep working at pushing Ragnarok forward. Add onto that, he's a god and we aren't. We need every advantage we can get if we are going to do this."

"In my opinion, if we do this, two of us should go and one should remain behind. That way, there is the possibility that if one of us breaks, the other might remain whole and can carry the knowledge back. If both should break, the one is left behind to rebuild a team with other Scions and continue."

"There is no danger in going to this place," Odin said. "Only in the choices you make once there. But consider - Loki knows of where I will take you, but cannot bring himself to meet the price that is asked of him."

"In the mortal world, there are two ... scientists, is what you call them. A man named Heisenberg and one called Schrodinger. To illustrate a principle defined by the first man, Schrodinger crafted the example of a sealed box containing a small animal. The animal may be alive, or it may be dead. But until you open the box and look inside, it can be said to be both at once," Odin explains. "So, we will go look at the box. It is up to you to decide whether you wish to open it or not. None of the Aesir will think less of you if you decline to do so."

"Oh, crap. Schrodinger's Cat," Evie runs a hand across her face. "I'm not sure I ever really wrapped my brain around that concept back in college. Read about it a bit, but all I learned is the same as what All Father just recapped."

"So, is this sort of like locked points in time in Dr. Who? The cat is both dead and alive (or neither) until we see it. Once we see it, though, it becomes one or the other and is locked into that state? So, what we see becomes the reality?"

"What's the point of knowing the future if it becomes unchangeable once you know it?" Lya scoffs. "That's nothing but a curse. Loki probably refused because he wanted to control his own fate instead of seeing it set out before him in stone."

Evie nods, "True. And, I could be completely wrong. All I know about quantum physics is: the cat might or might not be dead. Everything else, I'm just pulling from my vast supply of useless sci-fi trivia."

"I'm just trying to get a better grasp of things before I make my final decision," she smiles grimly. "I don't know what the price will be so...yeah. I mean, I'll do it if I feel like I fully understand how deep the water is, regardless of the actual depth. I just want to know beforehand. Does that make sense?"

"So what is the price we must pay if we choose to look into the box? And if we look into the box, does what we see become set in stone because we've seen it?" Lya asks Odin. "If so, truly what is the point? I've always believed life was what you made of it. I don't know if I'd want to know a future that I can't change."

"As I said, it depends on the questions you ask and the answers you seek," Odin said. "I asked for very specific knowledge and was charged a not-inconsiderable price. Your price may be different, as may your answers. But you cannot ask the questions here. In fact, the ... guardian of the place may not look kindly upon your intrusion."

"Well then," Lya sighs as she turns to the others. "We've got a testy guardian who has an affinity for other people's body parts when they want specific answers."

She runs a hand through her hair and scratches her head. "So I suppose that leaves us three choices." She raises her hand to gesture with her fingers._ "One_ of us could go, thus taking any potential punishment on themselves and hopefully getting the specific answers we need to stop Loki. _All_ of us could go and hopefully spread the punishment thinner between the three of us. _None_ of us go and we try to do this on our own."

"Knowing you guys, I'll bet you're both thinking about taking all the responsibility on yourselves..." she chuckles dryly, "and granted, you've both got the family background here that _might_ make the guardian a little less testy. I'm not one to back down when it comes to hard decisions though," she continues as she points to herself, "and I also have some experience with dealing with visions."

She gestures with her thumb towards the Furies. "From the evil eye Klepto is giving me I'm pretty sure I know _their_ feelings about all of this... but what do you guys think?"

"Well..." Evie says after a moment of consideration, "I think I still like my plan. Two of us should speak to this guardian. That spreads the punishment out a bit and gives some bit of security. The whole comment about 'breaking us' still has me pretty damn worried. But, considering the clarification that Odin has given, I'm thinking that maybe what Heimdall meant was less 'lose your mind' and more 'can't work effectively.' Still, neither of those definitions make me happy."

"As far as who I think should go, if we send two...I think it should be myself and Lya," she looks to the singer. "You have the gift of prophecy. It's important that you be there to try and match up any answers with the visions that you have had."

"As far as myself...well...I just see well. If this guardian gives us answers in the form of visions, it may be that I can pick something out that Alex or Lya might miss."

"Which, would leave you behind to clean up after us if things do go badly, Alex," she says apologetically.

"But, it's all just planning, at this stage. If you think that all or none of us should go, then I'm behind you."

"I'm just worried that this guardian is going to pick a fight before you even get to that point," Klepto says with a grunt. "It might be best if we all go, and then if the option is presented to us to choose who goes forward, we can deal with it then."

"One would hope that being a daughter of Chaos might aid you with handling such a mental burden," Phoebe adds. "And if not... we will always be there to aid you in whatever way is required."

Lya nods in agreement. "Can't argue with that... what do you say, Alex? You willing to look out for Evie and me if we do this?"

"Somehow, if I let some guardian or mystic carve a piece off you, Lya, 'picking up' is the last thing I'll have to worry about," Alex said. "I agree with Klepto. We go and find out what the price is."

"Also, only Evie and I are Aesir. If this guardian has a history with the All-Father, a parade of Aesir showing up for free peeks may not be on their list. Lya's gift for prophecy may be a point of common ground."

"Alright, then. Let's go find out a bit more about this guardian and his prices. We can make final decisions when we get there," Evie says.

"So, I guess we should decide on what question to ask, exactly, before we get there. If we don't ask the right thing, then we may be giving up something precious for the wrong information."

"So, we want to know Loki's plan. If we know what he's doing and who he's manipulating, then we can put Ragnarok back on the right track. My first thought is to ask about Loki but...that might not be the right track. Perhaps we should ask, instead, how to set things right and leave Loki out of the equation."

"If we get the answer to how to still the ripples, then we should get the answer we need. Maybe?" she looks to the others, waiting to see what they think.

"I agree," Lya says. "We can't kill Loki, because his ultimate fate has been decided by Ragnarok... and knowing his plans is pointless if we don't know how to stop them. The important thing to me is knowing what we have to do to set things right with all the timelines."

"Ironic. We'd love to stop Ragnarok, but we apparently can't do that. Instead, we have to make sure it goes off according to prophecy," Alex says. "You're right, Lya. That sucks."

"Where is this place?" he asks Odin.

"Mount up," Odin says. "We ride."  
The All-Father hops into a chariot hitched to two goats - hardly the conveyance one would think suited to a ride across Asgard, or wherever, but this is the god who equipped Hrofgar with a dimension-hopping satchel.

With Odin's chariot in the lead, you ride back down to the Asgard side of the Bifrost, and head down a road towards the mountains. Or, at least you think it's in that direction. Although your horses seem to be traveling at an easy canter, the world starts passing by in a blurry streak. It's decidedly unsettling, though nowhere near as tumultuous as the trip from Loki's castle.

All that's missing is a staccato pulsing sound and a police call box.

When the world resolves around you, it's certainly cold enough to be the mountains. You appear to have ridden far ahead of the day's light, with dark walls of stone rising around you. There's a thatched-roof cottage, and a young woman tilling a small plot of ground.

As you come closer, you see that her face is lined with creases of worry, her brown hair tied back but with stubborn, fly-away strands falling across her face. And a mouth that is set in a hard line.

"Why do you darken my doorstep, Bors' son?" she snaps. "Come in search of more wisdom?"

"I have heroes from Midgard traveling under my protection, Rikke," Odin says. "They would seek counsel at the well."

"I have counsel. Turn back. Look at this old bastard!" Rikke cackles. "He receives a glimpse into the future, something mortals would pay dearly for, and learns it is all to his ruin! And so he comes, time and again, to look for ways around and over and under that which is written and must be!"

She moves to take a closer look.

"So, who would dare speak to Mimir? Do you know what you ask? _This_ one, he handed my father over to the Vanir, and when they did not like his counsel, he cut his head off and tossed it in the well," she explains. "And then he has the temerity, the gall, to come here and seek answers! For this did my father charge the All-Father the price of his eye.

"Has it solved any of his problems? Lightened any of his burdens? No! Now he looks for ways to twist fate to his own liking, loopholes where the ending is the same, but the story is different.

"So, come, 'heroes from Midgard.' Come to the well and be tested!"

_Welp. This is going to be interesting,_ Evie thinks to herself. She considers saying something to Rikke, to tell her that they do not look to change prophecy, but to have it unfold as it should. But, she doubts that the lady will listen. So, she keeps her own counsel and, instead, turns to Alex and Lya.

Turning to the others, she says, "So, we're to be tested. I suppose that means we need to make our final decision, now. Who's coming?"

"I think it's you and me, Evie," Lya answers as Klepto offers her arm and lowers Lya off the horse. "If you're sure you want to do this, I mean. I'm more than willing if you're having any doubts."

"Be strong, Lya," Klepto whispers. "No matter what happens... don't forget who you are."

Evie smiles nervously and shakes her head, "Nope. I mean...yeah. I'm scared...but I'm not stepping down. We're in this together."

For a moment, Evie's brain takes an unexpected turn and she finds herself mentally singing, "We're off to see the wizard!" Suppressing the urge to giggle, she clears her throat and looks to Odin, "I guess we're ready, then."

"My best advice," Lya whispers as she leans over to Evie, "don't resist it or try to ask questions while it's happening. Just let the images wash over you... you can worry about analyzing them later."

"Okay," Evie nods, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She grins and whispers back, "You know me too well."

"Is this a private tour?" Alex asks Rikke. "Or do I need to make my farewells before you take my friends off to see the wizard, or whatever this freak show is?"

"Ah. You like to watch, do you?" Rikke snorts. "Or are you like the Aesir, all hard on the outside with a chewy, gooey center? Here to protect the women."

Alex glances at the Furies and smirks. "If there are more capable shield maidens than these, I have yet to meet them."

"Hmph. Very well, come along. But not you, All-Father. I will not have you twisting their sacrifices to suit your ends," Rikke says.

She leads you to a door set in the stone. No, not stone ... wood. The thick, gnarled wood of ancient trees and deep roots.

"Regard the ancient ways," Rikke says. "We shall not walk this path again."  
You follow the course of a giant root down, down, down ... the power of the place evident and heavy in the air about you.

"Yggdrasil," Alex breathes. "This is the World Tree."

"A hero from Midgard," Rikke smiles. "I thought so. You are Aesir."

"I am. But I was born on Midgard and have not been to Asgard before this," Alex says. "You can take up the All-Father's word games with _him_ later."

"I shall, Son of Tyr."

"Fuck. You've known from the start."

"I have. It amuses me to see what contrivances the All-Father will attempt," Rikke said. "But you are not the Son of Tyr that I have seen in other visits to the Well. And while time is somewhat irrelevant in this place, the All-Father's visit comes later than I expected."

"So everything isn't written in stone?"

"If it is foreseen that I will be visited by a Son of Tyr, a Daughter of Heimdall, and a sister with the sight," Rikke explains, "Then it shall be. Much depends on what you ask."

You come at last to pool. It is deep and dark, but there is a glimmer of light from somewhere far in its depths. And, resting upon a column next to shallow steps leading into the water, there's a man's head. Pale, waxy flesh, because he's dead - though preserved through magic. Eyes open, but sightless.  
"Father, we have guests," Rikke says.

"I see them," a voice says. His lips do not move, but it is clear it is the voice belongs to the head on the column. "Lya Bach. I bid you welcome, Daughter of Dionysus. And you, Evie Cartwright, Daughter of Heimdall. And the Son of Tyr. I have been expecting you."

"Here is how it works. You get to ask whatever questions you wish. I will name a price, which you must pay without quibbling, if you wish the answers to those questions. But all prices are unique to this moment; if you decline my counsel and leave, but return for the answers at a later time, the price will have changed, for better or worse."

Lya takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly. "All right... let's do this," she whispers to herself as Toxic grips her shoulder in support.

She then turns to the disembodied head and says "Wise Mimir, I wish to know what actions can we take in order for us to set our timeline back to its correct path free of Loki's machinations."

"Because you also have the sight, Lya Bach, I will give you a choice. Do you wish to pay a physical price for your answer, or receive wisdom unbidden that may be to your benefit ... or be a curse?" Mimir asks.

"Crap. It's Truth or Dare, the game show," mutters Alex.

"Don't look at me, Tyrsson. I'm not the one come begging for answers," the voice retorts with an audible sneer.

"Mimir, since this is a question that we all seek answered, could any of us accept the price in Lya's place? If she hadn't asked first, I would've asked the same thing."

"What is of value to one is not always of value to another, nor do you have the same gifts. If you wish to 'pay the price' for another, then you must agree to a price I name ... in advance of knowing what that price may be," Mimir answered.

_Well, shit,_ Evie thinks. She had hoped that maybe she could carry Lya's price. However, she's not at all surprised that that idea was shot down. No doubt, others before them had asked the exact same thing. Plus, this is the Mimir. He sees that angle and knows how to avoid it.

"Then it's up to you, Lya," Evie says. "I'm sure there will be a follow-up question or two for clarification. I can field that, if you take this one. Or, if you change your mind, I'll take this."

"Which is exactly why I asked it first," Lya replied as she winked at Evie.

"Knowledge of future events is _always_ a curse," Lya replies to the Mimir with a wry smile. "If I chose the physical price I might not be able to keep up with these guys when the time comes."

"You would know what actions you may take to set events aright, free of the machinations of Laufeyson," Mimir states. "And after I show you the future past, then I will collect the price."

"Come, Daughter of Dionysus. Enter the Well of Mimir and find your answers."

"Full immersion," Rikke whispers in Lya's ear. "Your answer will form in the waters around you. You may shed armor and clothes if you wish, but it is not required."

She pauses.

"Not sure I could take seeing that old bastard naked," she murmurs, and you know she's talking about Odin.

You step into the Well. The water is cold and clear and smells of the outdoor and living things, something that would be lost if Ragnarok were to come to pass.

_There's a flare of light, and you find yourself shying away a billowing mushroom cloud. It's a visceral image, yet even knowing the destruction a nuclear bomb is capable of, the enormous toll of death and generations-long suffering - man has always had a sick fascination for their ultimate weapons, at first stockpiling them beyond count; then inventing clever ways of killing people but not leveling cities; then smaller, 'tactical' weapons._

_But then time begins unwinding, running backwards. Military jargon, launch orders, eleventh-hour pleas for sanity, angry shouting matches at the UN and elsewhere, protests, unrest, headlines ..._

_... votes on the Senate and House floors Hitoshi? Bob Malcolm. Cloistered meetings of counselors and military officers Colonel Ellison, an Alex North missing his right hand and dressed in an Army uniform and politicians. A president you don't recognize giving an impassioned speech from the Oval Office. More votes, more protests. A state funeral, and a flag-draped casket being led down Pennsylvania Avenue._

_The crack of a sniper's rifle, but not the face of the assassin._

_Faster and faster, time unwinds ..._

But it is not Loki pulling the strings. You hear the snarling of a vicious animal. Gleaming eyes encroach from the darkness beyond, and you have an impression of fangs and vicious, long-held hatred, bone and blood deep. Fenris. There are others, lurking in the shadows. Faces you know, even though you've never met them. Douglas Mason. James Asano. Edward McCain. Eleanor Kendall.

You break the surface.

"You have your answer," Mimir says. "Slay the wolf's pack, and you stay Ragnarok. Now I will have my price, Lya Bach. You seek to right the course of history, but you must choose between gods and humans. Salvation for one is betrayal to another."

"Death, death and more death," Lya sighs in disappointment. "I didn't need a magical disembodied head to tell me that killing them would stop things." She tromps out of the pool and starts wringing the water out of her hair. "Guess I was expecting something more from the Gods."

She struts up to the Mimir. "You and your kind are obsessed with it, aren't you? Always worrying about how to get more time while forgetting to truly live in the time you have. You told me yourself that Ragnarok is inevitable and the time of Gods must come to an end... so I really don't see how saving humanity would _be_ a betrayal to the Gods. Perhaps you all should learn to accept your own fates and look to your children as the way for your legacy to carry on. That's what _humans_ do."

"I am as I was and will always be... a champion for the downtrodden and a guardian of the good the human race can achieve despite all its problems. The Gods created us to live among the humans and fight their battles for them... and now they can accept the consequences."

Mimir's head does not change expression. It has a condescending sneer on its face, as if he knew Odin would be back to seek his counsel after Mimir's beheading.

"I don't believe it," Alex frowns. "I'm not talking about fate or destiny. Loki doesn't ask because it's that goddamn dead cat problem. As long as he doesn't have a hard answer, he can run around hither and yon fucking with whomever he likes, because Loki being the King of All That and Loki and Heimdall strangling each other to deat-"

"Oh, shit," he mutters. "I'm sorry, Evie. I'll shut up now."

Evie waves it off, shaking her head, "No big deal. I've read up on the whole Ragnarok thing since we got sucked into this. I knew what fate supposedly awaits Heimdall." She shrugs and says, "I'm going to die, someday, myself. (Probably sooner than later.) I've lived my whole life as a human knowing that my parents will probably die before me. I face every day as a cop knowing that I or any of my fellow officers may not make it out of whatever situation we find ourselves. This is no different."

She grins and adds, "Though, I am a bit jealous that he gets to be the one to strangle Loki. Maybe I can at least get in a crotch punch before I kick it."

"I'm just sorry that, apparently, you get stuck paying a price for something that we already knew," she says to Lya. She ponders for a second before she adds, "But, let's see...can you tell us details? Maybe there's something in there that we _didn't_ know...or, at least, something that points us towards a new goal."

"Not sure what price I'm paying honestly," Lya chuckles. "I mean we already knew that Ragnarok meant the passing of the Gods. I think _all_ of the Gods know that their time is finite, and that's why they choose to have children... so that their legacy can continue to live on in the age of humans. So I guess to me choosing between humanity and the Gods really isn't that hard of a choice."

She sighs. "Anyway... with the vision... it basically showed us what my previous vision did... but a bit clearer in the details. The big plan is World War III and nuclear holocaust... with Senator Malcolm, Colonel Ellison, and Senator Ryder and General North of all people... yeah don't get me started on that one... arguing either for or against pushing the big red button. The part I didn't see before was the assassination that led up to that point... and the fact that Loki isn't the one with the plan to try and change everything... Fenris is with the help of the people on that list we found so long ago."

She lets out a small gasp. "The funeral was full of pomp and circumstance... could it have been the President?" She starts to pace nervously. "Maybe... maybe instead of having to go on a killing spree ourselves, we just need to stop _one_ very important death from happening. That seems to be the action that sets everything into motion."

"But if we stop them once, what's to keep them from trying over and over again?" Toxic growls. "The only way to be sure is if we take them all out so they can't just pick their plans up again after we leave."

"Do _you_ know how to kill a God?" Lya asks with a raised brow. "You've got a point, though... we don't know if the assassination will even be in our timeline."

"That's the biggest problem. We're just running from timeline to timeline, putting out fires. Sure, we stopped WWIII in one timeline, but it'll just crop up in another," Evie frowns. "Sooo...maybe we need to figure out a way to trap Fenris or Loki or whoever in a single timeline...if that can even be done."

"Well... how did you all trap Fenris in the first place? Would he fall for that again?" Lya asks. "If you want to ask if there's another way to set things right without killing them, then by all means go ahead, Evie... but I don't know if there is without it meaning we're just going to be doing this again in the future."

"Or we need to open the box and force Loki into a corner," Alex said. "And I don't mean his going toe-to-toe with Heimdall or offing the bastard before he even starts. There's got to be a linchpin in the middle, like Evie said - some place we can force him to jump, some move he has to make, that puts the skids on everything else. The world may go down to ruin and flames, but it won't be today."

"If I have to cut off a hand and take a dip in your communal bath, so be it."

"Yeah, I want to avoid doing this all over again, ad infinitum. I think we should focus on trying to hold our opponents in one place/time and deal with them that way," she says. "We know it can be done because Fenris was trapped before. So, I guess the next question would be: how to do that again. Which, I'll ask if no one else has other ideas?"

"I asked my question," Lya replies with a shrug. "I wanted to know how to set our timeline right and keep it from getting messed with and I got the answer none of the gods wanted to hear... the only way to truly keep the gods from messing with humanity is to let their time come to an end. It's a hard truth... but it's still a truth, guys. Trapping Fenris and Loki is only going to delay the inevitable... as the Norse gods well know. Eventually they'll just escape again... and we'll be forcing our descendants to be making these same decisions at a later date."

"But if killing Gods isn't on the discussion table... then I say go ahead and ask how we can trap Fenris and Loki. We may still have to kill their minions, though."

"Okay, let's say we decide to just kill the gods. How do you even do that? And how would we kill all of them? Like...every pantheon? Somehow, I think we'd be a little out-gunned. We'd be extremely lucky to kill one, maybe two. But, all of them? I just don't see that even being within our power. At all."

She shrugs and kind of throws up her hands in a hopeless gesture. "I mean...maybe...maybe we could set them against each other and pick off the weakened remainders. But, if we start a God War, that would probably end with the destruction of humanity, as well. I can't imagine us not getting caught in that crossfire."

"But, if we want to consider all possibilities, we do have two more questions we can ask, if each of us asks once. (I don't know that we'd want to ask more than that!)," Evie looks questioningly towards Alex.

"Do you want to take one question and I'll take the other? Doesn't matter to me who takes which."

"Well if we fix things and let Ragnarok happen, that will eventually kill all the gods anyway as well as reboot humanity after fire and flood," Lya shrugs. "If we killed Fenris, then Ragnarok would _never_ happen and everyone would be safe. Then again... if the gods could've done it I imagine they would've. If we trap Fenris, we still have to worry about his kids and their minions. So maybe the best answer is taking out them? That seems like more our scale."

Evie growls, frustrated. Shaking her head, she takes a deep breath, "Okay. No. I refuse to accept that it's all or nothing. Humanity or the gods. There has to be a way to do this that doesn't involve wiping out one side or the other."

Calmer, she sighs, sitting down heavily upon a nearby rock, "But, I don't know what solution that would be." Mirthlessly, she laughs, "Find Loki, strap a cat to one side, buttered toast to the other and then throw him off a building so he spins in mid-air forever?"

After a second of chuckling, she ponders, "Killing Fenris seems like it would be the answer. Like Lya said, killing him means Ragnarok doesn't happen. Unless some other power just moves in to fill that void and picks up where Wolf leaves off."

"Then I guess we need to ask if there's a way to kill Fenris... unless you want to just ask Odin why they never killed him in the first place? That might've been a question he's already asked," Lya says to Evie.

"If Fenris can't be killed, then we know we need to ask how to trap him. If that won't work, we know it's down to removing his pawns."

"So is our question, 'Can Fenris be stopped without killing him, and if so, how?'" Alex said. "I'm not talking to the talking head yet, so don't go quoting prices, please. Oh, if being blown up and being used as a mystical anchor for one of Loki's plots is worth 5% at the register, let me know."

"Yeah I think that should be our next question. Keep in mind though... even if we trap Fenris we will still probably have to do something with his kids in order to stop whatever assassination they've got planned to start WWIII."

"Well, then...I'll ask the next question after we've asked Odin about Fenris. Like you say, if he's already asked, then asking Mimir again is kind of silly."

She turns to Mimir and says, "May I please leave for a moment to speak with Odin before I ask my question?"

"Oh, sure," Mimir says. "I have all day. So many things for a magically embalmed head to get up to."

"You should've been a prophet for the Greeks," Lya winks. "We build whole temples dedicated to ours."

"You should at least get out for Halloween," Evie says, "You'd be a hit with all the cool kids."

With a parting smile, she makes her way back up and out to where Odin waits. Without preamble, she walks over to him and sighs, "So. Fenris. Do you know if he can be killed or is the best we can do is contain him?"

She gives an apologetic shrug and adds, "We figured you might be able to answer that without one of us getting munched on by Mr, Happy down there. It would be stupid to risk Mimir if you might have the answer."

Odin gives Evie a 'clever girl' smile that is more complimentary than condescending. It occurs to her that there is very little difference between the All-Father and Loki; both are looking for loopholes to exploit. Loki just doesn't seem to give a shit about who he has to mess over to get what he wants.

"Ah, Mimir told you killing Fenris would solve things, did he?" Odin frowns. "That may be true, but I cannot ordain or set that task before anyone, as it is linked to my fate more than anyone else's. It is linked to Alex's father, as well. You will get a future free of Loki's machinations, but if 'Fenris kills Odin' is what must come to pass, it will. Another Fenris, another time and place. So, yes - you can kill Fenris.

"The question is, did I put my foot in it when I looked into the future? Or is this simply a wheel within a wheel, and it is your destiny to discover whether this 'cat' is alive or dead at the end of things?"

"Well, no," Evie says. Her face creases with worry as she continues. "Actually, from what Lya has said, it sounds like we have a choice: either side with the gods and let all humanity die or side with humanity and kill the gods. But, to be honest...I'm not sure about that."

"Lya accepted a mental price from Mimir when she went into the pool. I'm afraid that whatever it is that Mimir did to her has tainted how she looks at the world...how she feels and thinks. I honestly think she is completely down with the idea of killing off the gods, now," Evie sighs. "Lya is our heart. She's the one who holds this team together and gives us hope. She's compassionate and wants what is best for humanity. And, in this case, I'm afraid that she sees the end of the gods as being humanity's salvation. If we don't, then we just leave doom hanging over another generation's head down the road."

"And, you know...she's not wrong. If we set things right, then Ragnarok will happen. And, then there will be another set of Scions who will rise up and probably try to stop it because, who wouldn't want to stop an apocalypse?"

"On the other hand, though," Evie continues softly, "...life and death is a cycle. It's something that I have lived with my entire life, as a mortal. You are born, you live and you die and then there is rebirth. It's the way things are. And who is to say that that balance isn't necessary on a scale beyond even the gods?"

She is silent for a moment, pondering things before she shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair, "But, we're looking at the possibility of either killing or trapping Fenris and/or Loki. If we kill Fenris, then maybe Ragnarok won't happen." She shrugs, "It doesn't mean that another power won't rise up and start the death process again, but...it gives us a stay of execution for a little while."

"Our main problem is trying pin Loki down. With him jumping all over creation, from timeline to timeline, dimension to dimension...he can just keep messing with stuff until something sticks. And we can't keep chasing him to put out fires. We need to hold him in one place."

"So, I think those are the next two questions: one for me and one for Alex. How to kill Fenris and how to trap Loki."

"I have no further counsel, Heimdallsdottir, lest Mimir accuse you of asking questions on my behalf," Odin says. "I will be here when you return."

"Of course," Evie nods. "Thank you. One of us may pop back up if we have more questions, but I won't ask anything else, now."

She trudges back down the path to where Mimir and the others wait. When she arrives, she says, "Well, Fenris can be killed. But, Odin didn't want to say anything else and, granddad or not, I'm not going to push him for answers."

"So, I guess our questions are: How do we kill Fenris and how do we trap Loki? Any other ideas before one of us jumps in the pool with Cranky McHeaderson?"

"Loki's been meddling in my life ever since Afghanistan, so that might color what I see," Alex says. "At the same time, Fenris is responsible for tearing off my father's hand. I'll take a shot at either question."

"I'll take the Loki question, then. Maybe between all three answers, we'll be able to form some kind of plan."

Evie takes a moment to straighten her tunic, mentally preparing herself for the task ahead. She's frightened of what the price may be. There are so many things that Mimir could take from her...

"Alright, Mimir," she says, turning towards the magical head. "I'm ready to ask my question. How can we trap Loki?"

"Daughter of Heimdall, the price for the answer you seek is that you will fail in protecting someone you love," Mimir says. "If you will, then enter the Well and learn the answer to your question."

In the end, there is little choice. You shudder as you enter the waters, but only because they are cold. But they are also invigorating in a way you did not expect, as if the Well were being fed by the purest of mountain streams.

_You realize that this is exactly so, but it is not a mountain. It is the power of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. It is the power of multiple realities coming together. The Well is where all is possible._

_What you did not expect is your faculty of assessing a crime scene to kick in. And you learn something that neither Odin nor Mimir would have told you. Nor Loki, necessarily._

_Ragnarok is a cycle. Not just the world's beginning and ending, but everything in between. And Loki remembers all of it. Across incarnations, across realities. He does not know, as the All-Father does, the ultimate outcome, because he has never committed himself to 'opening the box' - he plays games with it, in the hopes of eliciting a meow or a thump that tells him what the box contains prior to tearing off the lid. He does this because he knows his path changes each time, a round-robin of temporal chess._

_To trap him, you need to find what he has not - the one move that frees him from the events ordained by Odin's sight._

"I don't trust Odin," Lya whispers. "There must be a reason why they never killed Fenris in the first place... what isn't he telling us?"

"I keep thinking of an old Star Trek episode, where there's this one guy, and his mirror self, who is crazy. At the end, they lock both men in this gap between the universes, and Kirk says, 'You're going to spend eternity with a madman at your throat,'" Alex says. "And this guy smiles and tells Kirk it's a fair price to keep two universes safe. Maybe it's something like that."

A feeling like nausea combined with that horrible sensation as you crest a roller-coaster sweeps through Evie's gut. _Of course that's my price,_ she thinks bitterly. _Anything else I would've paid without a second thought._

Her thoughts drift for a minute...

_...playing with Ian in the hot, Nevada summer sun. Rows of action figures lined up, the two of them laughing as they weave an epic story..._

_...racing against Ricky. Sweat pouring from their brows as they strain to be first over the finish line..._

_...her mortal father, Jason, under the hood of some old car, singing a goofy song to her as she watches him tighten a screw here, adjust a belt there..._

_...her mother, Deirdre, carefully tucking a blanket under Evie's chin as she lay in bed, shivering with sickness..._

_...Saul plopping down next to her on the couch, handing her a big, bowl of popcorn as he laughs, ready to relax after a long shift..._

"Fuck me," she mutters angrily. "I'll pay your price." _If I don't, I stand to lose them all._

She enters the waters and is engulfed by the vision. Once it passes, Evie emerges, dripping and thoughtful. She wades out, her clothes clinging to her uncomfortably. Finding a place to sit, she plops down and sorts through what she has seen.

"Ragnarok is a cycle, but not just a cycle of life and death. It's...well...it's the cycle of everything. But, Loki doesn't know that. He's never 'opened the box,' so to speak. So, he's trying to figure out what the box contains, like a kid trying to learn what's in the gift box at Christmas."

"What he's doing is running chess strategies. He's trying to find the one strategy that means he doesn't wind up a victim of Ragnarok. I don't think he's necessarily trying to bring about the end of the world, per se. He's just trying to stop the end of _his_ world. He's looking for his loophole and he doesn't care what happens to everyone else."

Evie cocks her head to the side, trying to wrap her own brain around this as she explains, "Loki remembers everything that happens, across all times and dimensions. So, if we are going to beat him, we have to find that loophole. We have to find the solution that Loki seeks."

"The only way Loki can avoid suffering Loki's predestined fate is if Loki isn't Loki anymore," Lya says.

"If he stands still long enough I'll gladly help him with one way to do that," Toxic growls as she grips her sword.

"All right, then, Mimir. The Son of Tyr wants to know how to kill Fenris. Not ifs, buts, and maybes. If it's possible, you know how it happens and who delivers the telling blow. I heal impossibly fast by mortal standards, so we're aware he might well have similar gifts," Alex said. "What price do you ask of me?"

"Hmm. Can't ask you to cut something off, you'll just grow it back," Mimir muttered. "Very well. You must forsake Valhalla."

Alex frowned. More than once, Valeria had told him it wasn't his time, implying that he was destined for Valhalla should he die as a mortal. But he'd been resigned to death on that same day; fear of the grave held no particular power over him.

Still, the wording was vague enough that it didn't necessarily mean his own entry into Valhalla, but the choosing-between-gods-and-humans crap the Talking Head had shoved in Lya's face. If they were going to foil Loki and Fenris both, it might be quite the shakeup.

"Done and done," Alex said. "And if you're fucking having me on, I'll come back from the dead and use you for batting practice."

"Yeah, yeah. One bright morning in the middle of the night, blah, blah, blah," Mimir sneered. "And the Aesir wonder why I don't like them. Enter the well, Son of Tyr."

The water was cold, but it wasn't life-affirming or refreshing to Alex. It reminded him of the grave, even though the little game Hel had played hadn't involved him. Or at least, the 'real' Alex North. Maybe she'd done some dimension hopping of her own, cobbling together a double from different realities.

_ Soleil Hunter's face came swimming out of the dark waters. Was that coincidence, or had she been set on him by Fenris, and not Loki? Shit. Soleil Hunter. Sun Hunter, meaning she was Hati, the wolf who chases the Sun. There'd be another, then, Skoll - the wolf who chases the moon. The Children of Fenris._

_New to the game, then. Put into play when Loki fucked things up by killing Thomas Cardinelli. Put in the paths of Scions like himself, Lya, and Evie. But if they were in human form, might Fenris be also? Trading his natural strength and advantages for a position where he could bring about Ragnarok?_

Alex landed a roundhouse punch that would have broken the jaw of a mortal. But his opponent seemed to relish it, a vicious, feral grin on his face as he got back up off the floor.

_Gunshots rang out, slamming into Alex, but doing little more than stinging. Amid the shouting and chaos, his opponent holding up a hand to back everyone else off. And in the next moment, launching himself at Alex to land a flurry of blows. They began fighting in earnest, not holding back. Punches tore holes in walls, smashed desks. Someone grabbed Alex's arm. He wrenched it free and saw a man in a suit, a federal agent or part of a protective detail, go flying._

_"Death to the Son of Tyr," the man hissed. It was the voice that had spoken over the radio long ago, it had never been Loki. It was Fenris. The next strike wasn't a punch, it was with claws unseen, but which tore through clothes and flesh with a spray of blood._

_"Gonna have to do better than that, you son of a bitch," Alex said. "Time we finished this."_

_The problem with claws is that one had to fight in close quarters, and, this time, it was against a demigod with not-inconsiderable strength and an ability to soak up damage like crazy. Alex heard one of Fenris' bones break, and he pressed his attack. Maybe in wolf form, it wouldn't have mattered. But here, now, Fenris was in mortal guise._

_It ended with Alex crushing the man's forearms, then spinning him around into a stranglehold. He capped the man's forehead with one hand and twisted, not only breaking Fenris' neck, but tearing off his head. Maybe he could embalm it and set it up to keep Mimir company._

Alex broke the surface, and knew how Odin must have felt. He'd learned things that changed _everything_. He'd been shown how Fenris dies. If Loki was seeing alternate realities, he'd have to know about this one, wouldn't he? Or were both so brazen and confident that it couldn't possibly happen to them?

"Crap. I know how it happens and who does it," Alex said. "But I don't know when, 'cause, silly me, I didn't ask. Fuck you, Mimir."

"You're welcome," Mimir's voice laughed. "Now, go commiserate with Odin. Next dip costs you both hands, which would kind of make your whole question moot, yes?"

"You know what? You're not worth it," Alex says. "Fuck off. Oh, wait, that part of you is missing. Go soak your head."

He upends the charger and dumps Mimir's head in the Well.

"So what did we get from this?" Lya asks after Alex comes out of the pool. "We know that Fenris will die by Alex's hands... we know that the only way to fix our timeline is to kill those responsible yet as a result we have to choose between humanity or the gods. We know the only way to trap Loki is to give him what he can't see."

She sighs. "So if we kill Fenris we effectively stop Ragnarok and save the Gods... but does that mean humanity will suffer? It seems like it would be a win-win to me."

"I have to figure out where I've seen this clown before," Alex said. "He was being guarded by a federal agent or Diplomatic Protective Services guy, so he's important. A politician of some kind, at the top of the food chain."

He runs his hand through still-damp hair for a semblance of grooming. "We have _some_ time, though. It felt like I was stronger than I am now, and ... not to toot my own horn, but I thought of myself as a demigod. Guess I move up in the ranks some."

"So I guess figuring out who Fenris is will be a focus when we go back," Lya says. "If he's a high level political figure it won't be like we can catch him on the way to the grocery store. It won't do much for our PR either if you catch my drift... so we'll have to keep it out of the public eye."

She turns to Evie. "I don't know what you want to do with Loki though. You'd think he's support us if it meant he didn't have to suffer his fate... but he might be in it for the benefits of rulership more than freedom."

"It didn't feel like I'd had to sneak up on the guy. It was a public event, a speech or town hall something, where he's out in the open," Alex noted. "It's as real as anything Odin saw, and the protective detail was reacting to me throwing the first punch. It's going to happen."

"Maybe I'll just have to pony up the cash for a fundraising dinner, or finagle an invite to an Army event."

"I'll start saving up the bail money now then, shall I?" Lya chuckles dryly. "That is if they don't kill us all for treason first."

"You know..." she adds as an afterthought as she turns back to Alex. "I almost want to ask one more question now, just to be sure. I'd like to see what happens if we kill Fenris, you know? The things that head told me just don't sit with the thought of everything being fixed for the better for everyone involved if we manage to kill him."

"Well, I'm pretty sure he won't have anything nice to say to me," Alex said. Rikke had fished her father's head out of the well and set it back on the silver charger. "But he seems to like you."

"With Loki, who knows?" Evie frowns, answering Lya. She thinks for a second before muttering, "When is Loki not Loki? I think you may have hit on the answer, Lya. And, the only time I can think of would be the time line when Loki is not adopted by Odin. If he's not adopted, then who does he become?"

"Whoa. Maybe it's even crazier than that. Maybe it's like a game of Mad Libs," Alex said. "We know the story is that 'Fenris kills Odin, etc., etc., and so forth' ... but if Fenris is taken out of the picture, does that mean Odin doesn't die and Ragnarok doesn't happen? Or does _someone else_ fill in the blank?"

Alex looks accusingly at Mimir's head. "So, this is a long shot, but it's no less convoluted than anything else we've heard or seen. Let's say I kill Fenris ... does that mean one of Fenris' children steps up to the plate, or does it mean something I do fulfills the prophecy, Odin dies, and viola!, yours truly forsakes Valhalla, 'cause that's Odin's mead hall, and nobody is about to let Odin's killer in the door."

"So maybe it's not the _who_ we need to change, but the _what_. Cross out 'kills Odin' and replace it with 'fights Odin' or 'goes over the Reichenbach falls with Odin'. Shit, does that even make sense?"

Lya scratches her head. "You guys are the ones saying that Ragnarok is fixed... and I have to think that if ending Ragnarok was as simple as killing Fenris, then Loki or one of the other gods would've done it themselves... so I guess that's what Loki is doing: looking to change the _terms_ of Ragnarok because he knows he can't _stop_ Ragnarok."

She sighs. "But the head said that I would have to choose between humanity and the gods... so maybe there really isn't an option where everybody wins." She glances back at the pool and gnaws at her lower lip with her teeth. "I think we need to ask the question... we need to see what the fate of the gods and humanity will be if we kill Fenris. It could be our best option is just putting things back the way it was."

"Odds favor the house. I wonder if Odin and Loki have come to that conclusion on their own - that no matter how many times you shuffle the cards, the _math_ comes down to Ragnarok," Alex said. "Maybe Odin still dies and Heimdall still kills Loki. But what happens after? What if _that's_ what we're changing?"

"Maybe that's where the choice lies... we can't stop Ragnarok from happening, but we can make choices that effect whether the gods or humanity makes it out in the end. Personally I'm all for changing the fire and flood part that wipes out a majority of humanity," Lya replies dryly. "Our world maybe broken... but it's also beautiful... and happens to be where all my friends live, dammit."

She looks to Alex thoughtfully. "That's probably where your fate comes in too... because if they die, there won't exactly be a Valhalla to go back to." She squeezes his arm gently as she looks up at him. "Are you OK with all that? I'm not like you guys... I don't feel the connection to this place that you all might have, and I'm used to my pantheon going through personnel changes. Doesn't mean I can't be sympathetic, though."

"That's how I look at the law, and why I didn't stay with the DA's office very long. It's not about punishing people - all that gets you is overcrowded jails and kids like Charles Cooper," Alex said. "Justice is about applying the law to all people equally. I know that doesn't always happen. I could have the nice condo and fancy car and country club membership, and be miserable every second."

"I'm not standing here and insisting that we'll make it _right,_ but depending on what we learn, I think we have to try. Even if that messes things up for the gods."

"So, how do we change the terms of Ragnarok?" Evie asks. "Does it go back to what's happening in Hitoshi's timeline? Or do we need to ask Chuckles another question?"

She makes a sour face at that idea. The detective is already right angry with Mimir. In her opinion, she is not the one paying the price for her last question. Instead, an innocent who isn't even aware of the stakes will take the fall. She does not relish the idea of talking to Mimir again.

"It's all metaphysics," frowns Alex. "Odin has been trying to stop Ragnarok. Loki has been trying to escape his fate. They can't, so this happens again and again and again. Someone has to break the cycle and do things differently. Maybe that's us, maybe not."

"Look... you guys have the most to lose from this whole Ragnarok thing really," Lya says with a sigh, "so let me be the one to ask the question if we do it. I don't think we're going to get the happy ending option though. It may be that our actions can only save the gods or the humans... not both. I'm willing to ask the Mimir what actions we need to take in order to alter Ragnarok to keep humanity from being harmed... but I need to know that you guys are with me."

She turns to Evie. "I'm not talking about a killing spree or anything like that, Evie... but if it comes down to having to choose between one or the other through my actions, I know that my heart lies with the people. Are you willing to make that choice if it comes down to it?"

"If it comes down to an 'either/or' choice and there is no other option...yes. I'm with you, Lya. I'd rather that we save everyone but I understand that may not be feasible," Evie sighs. After a moment, she smiles sadly, "Like you, all my friends and family live on Earth. Sure, the Aesir are family too but they are like those distant cousins that you only meet every 5 years at reunions. They're not the ones who held me when I was scared, laughed with me over stupid shit, had picnics and doctor visits..."

"So, yeah. I'm with you."

"I'm with you, Lya," Alex tells you. "Valhalla? Go out in a blaze of glory and live forever fighting some cosmic scrimmage? Not what I'm here for. Go down fighting to make sure there's something left for humanity after the gods are done with their cheese wheel race, I'm there."

"All right then," Lya replies with a grateful smile at the two Scions. "I'm going to ask what actions we have to take in order to alter Ragnarok in humanity's favor then, since it can't be stopped per se."

She takes a deep breath and puts on her best sincere expression as she turns and walks over to Rikke. "Please... I know we've each asked our questions... but I must beg the Mimir for one more. He said I'd have to make my choice between humanity and the Gods, but I'd already made that choice a long time ago. Now we need his help to make sure that our decisions follow through on that choice."

"You have done nothing to offend me, Lya Bach," Mimir says. "You may ask your question, but I will still levy a price. Regardless of what you see and what answers you find, there will come a moment where you will prophesy unbidden, but because of the power within you, you will have no control over the outcome. Your words may turn a friend into a foe, inspire or condemn, create or destroy."

"Enter the Well, if you choose."

Lya lets out a slow breath and nods. "I never know how people are going to take the visions anyway..." she mutters to herself as she walks back into the pool and lowers herself back into the waters.

_"I hear what you're saying, and ... you've always been a good friend, Lya, but I can't do what you're asking," Hitoshi says. "I can't go back to ... before."_

The vision suddenly goes awry as if a DJ had bumped their turntable.

"Remember who and what you are, Lya," a different voice counsels. Not a vision, but _here_ and _now_. "Prophecy is a gift. but it needn't be a burden to yourself or to others. All of this is because the Aesir are convinced they have no choice, the All-Father as well as his foster son."

You are floating in time and space alongside Guan Yin. No longer the Earthly physician, she is clad in flowing robes of white - her divine form.

"But we always have a choice, even when we lie to ourselves that we do not," the goddess reminds you. "For the Norse oracle to threaten you with prophecy and helplessness is nothing less than the burden of every parent throughout history - to watch their children grow, and learn. They may make poor choices, but that does not mean they are beyond compassion or hope.

"Gods and mortals alike seek to bind that which cannot be bound. There is no such thing as Ragnarok, only the determination of gods to settle ancient grievances. And, in doing so, strip away the very reason we fight - for the freedom of humanity to grow and thrive.  
"You have gifts that allow you to dance through chaos that is not of your making. And it need not be physical. I have shown you how to heal, a gift that is closely linked. You are here at the roots of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, a source of much power, the life blood of the Nine Worlds.

"Remember what I taught you, daughter. _Feel._"

You are drifting in the waters, in the faint glow that is said to emanate from Odin's eye. You reach for the connection not to the Well's gift of prophecy, nor for Odin's missing eye ... but deeper. Deeper still. Past the chains of prediction and prophesy and fate and into the same current that is/sustains Yggdrasil ...

Ragnarok is not fate. It's someone else's rules. Binding, cloying, defining. Alex doesn't _have_ to kill Fenris. Evie doesn't _have_ to fail to protect someone. Just as you don't _have_ to choose between gods and humans, because you already have.

It may be that fate and other influences make conflict with Fenris and Loki somewhat inevitable.  
And it may come down to the stupid dead cat puzzle. It's not opening the box you and the others need to be concerned with. It's not discovering a dead cat - Ragnarok. It's the living cat that Odin and the others can't see, because they're convinced of the reality of the dead one.

If Loki can go trolling through realities, why can't you?

Lya breaks the surface of the water with a sputtering laugh as she brushes her wet hair out of her face. "There is no cat," she chuckles. "There is no cat..."

"Lya... are you ok?" Orithia asks as she gives Lya a hand out of the water.

"Better than ever, actually," Lya responds with a wet smile as she leans to one side and squeezes the water out of her hair, "because I think I'm finally starting to understand what the gods refuse to see."

"Well color me curious," Toxic snorts as the Furies all gather around her.

"Yeah Lya, what did you see in there?" Evie asks curiously.

Lya takes a deep breath. "Well, it started off with what looked like us trying to get Hitoshi to come back with us... but then... then Guan-Yin appeared before me and told me that Ragnarok doesn't _have_ to happen at all!"

She gestures excitedly with her hands to mime a box. "OK... so we've got the proverbial box of probability where the cat named Ragnarok inside is either dead (Apocalypse) or alive (Peace) and nobody knows for sure because there's equal chance that it could be one or the other until we open the box and thus define it's state... right?"

Alex scratches her head. "Yeah... I'm following so far."

"Well get this... what if _there is no cat?"_ She grins widely as she looks to the others with confused looks on their faces. "Don't you see? They're so obsessed with their belief that whether they're trying to stop it or start it, Ragnarok _has_ to be in there... but there's no cat at all! There's just a bunch of old gods clinging to their anger and determined to believe that their hate couldn't create anything else."

"So the fact that Loki never opened the box isn't helping him, because..." Evie replies, "his predetermined beliefs have him stuck in a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"Exactly!" Lya nods happily. "They _all_ are!"

"So... how are we supposed to convince them to let centuries of hatred go?" Phoebe asks. "As horrible as Ragnarok is, they may cling to the fate they know rather than accept that there might be something better yet unknown on the horizon."

Lya takes a breath as if to reply and then her smile falters as she realizes she doesn't know what to say.

Evie laughs and catches Lya in a hug. She spins the Scion of Dionysus in a happy, little circle before releasing her, grinning.

"It doesn't matter! We'll figure it out!" Evie says enthusiastically. "We've got this...we can do it."

Still smiling, Evie gazes up at the ceiling, thinking. "Hmmm...maybe...what if we ask Heimdall if we can use his big, ol' TV screen? The one that he used to show us our reality? Maybe we can do some channel surfing and see what we can see?"

She shrugs and says, "All possibilities exist. Maybe now that we know that we are looking for the reality where the cat doesn't exist, we can find it. And, if we can find it, we can start showing the gods that there is another way."

"Since they are always looking for the reality they expect, they're not going to see anything else. We, however, might see what we need."

"That's the thing though, Evie," Lya responds. "The cat _doesn't_ exist... it never _did._ What we'd need to find is a reality where they actually _believed_ it."

"Forsake Valhalla," Alex says quietly. "Because it's as real as Ragnarok. If you're convinced you're going there, the valorous death becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. You become so concerned with going out in a blaze of glory that you don't stop to think about _why_ you're fighting in the first place."

"'Oh, but of course we know why we're fighting,'" he mimics a bad Norse accent. "'We're fighting to ... stop Loki ... from starting Ragnarok.'"

"It exists! Along with all the other realities that we've seen and heard about. The trick is finding it," Evie says, undeterred.

"I've spent a good part of my life looking for things that either people wanted to keep hidden or things that people were unaware even existed. Same thing, here. Just..._grander_," she grins and leans forward as she speaks, excited. "I'm going to go see if Odin will take me back to the Vantage. If Heimdall agrees, I'll start looking. I'm not sure exactly what I'll be looking for, at first, but I'm sure I can weed through things."

"You see, **I** believe you, Lya. **I** believe that the cat doesn't exist. So, I can find it,."

"If anybody can find it it's you Evie," Lya replies with a grin. "If we can have something to show them, that'll be the first step to trying to get them to believe us."

"So if you give up in the belief that Ragnarok has to exist then there's no need to fight... and if there's no need to fight, there's no need to have an afterlife like Valhalla for fighters," Klepto says. "I doubt they'd like giving up their longhouses and mead."

"I've had _plenty_ of reasons to fight in my life," Toxic scoffs, "and until we met Loki he didn't have anything to do with them."

"Maybe we don't have to get them to give up fighting all together," Lya theories. "Maybe it's about giving them a different _reason_ to fight in the first place."

"That might be a little easier for them to swallow than telling them their whole religion is based on a lie," Orithia chuckles.

"But what about Fenris?" Phoebe adds. "Alex saw himself killing him... will that not still come to pass?"

"Well, if that asshole is determined to start World War III, there may be no other option," Lya replies grimly. "Same with Loki and Fenris' daughters... we may still have to fight him when it comes down to it... but it doesn't mean it has to have anything to do with Ragnarok."

"Right... so we need to focus on stopping Fenris and Loki's plans, but now we also need to convince the Gods not to let it start something even _worse,"_Toxic replies.

Lya chuckles and slaps a hand on Toxic's shoulder. "Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy, hon... and a world without Ragnarok is worth a hell of a lot."

"I suppose it's a bit of semantics. If I end up fighting Fenris, I _am_ fighting to stop Ragnarok ... only in a much different way than we thought," Alex says. "I think we're done with the Well, though. When it comes to someone believing in Ragnarok and making sure it comes to pass, here's the guy who fed the line of bullcrap to the All-Father in the first place."

Rikke moves to stand between Alex and her father's head. "You will not."

"I don't have to," Alex told her. "It's all been a shell game. It's about personal investment in the outcome - whether it's because Odin gave up an eye, or some other metaphorical price that's supposed to hit us where it hurts. If there's no Ragnarok, Odin tore out his eyeball for nothing - so _of course_ it has to be true."

"Alex, you are a genius! That's where I need to start looking - a reality where either Loki and Odin never visited Mimir or a reality where Mimir doesn't exist. If they don't drink the Kool-aid..." she trails off with a grin.

Lya looks at the disembodied head for a long time and then glances back at Alex. "You know... in an odd way, I kind of understand why the Mimir did it... leading them on to believe that Ragnarok is the inevitable end... because it's an _end,"_ she finishes with a sigh as she looks to the ground and kicks a pebble with her foot.

"I mean imagine if a group of nigh immortal people found out **I** had visions and decided to cut my head off so they could keep it alive for eternity all to answer questions at their whim." she gestures with a hand to her heart before letting it fall to her side. "I'd be so angry with all of them... so full of rage... but over the centuries of enslavement and barely existing I would realize that all I really want is the peace that death can bring. The only power I would have to bring that about would be my words to the other gods... so I would have to twist and manipulate them in order to guarantee that someday the gods would die, and take me with them."

She walks over to the Mimir and looks at him with sadness in her eyes. "If you so wished it, I would end your pain quickly, Mimir," she says quietly. "Whatever your decision...these lies about Ragnarok can't continue."

"Wait," says Alex. "You can't, Lya. But maybe I can. When Loki had the Einjhar crash your performance at the Westview, I saw Valeria grant him release.

"I can't just snap my fingers and send you on your way, but if you're willing - I can free you from this binding. Your soul would go wherever it's destined to go."

"I have been waiting for you for eons, Alex North," Mimir says quietly. "I saw my own fate, just as the All-Father saw his, that I would be freed by the blood of Tyr. Ragnarok.

"_You_ are the blood of Tyr. Through this, you will forsake Valhalla, as I prophesied. You will make an enemy of the All-Father the moment he becomes aware of this. I ask only that you protect Rikke from his wrath, that she not become an unwilling oracle as I have."

Alex looks at Lya. "Will that work?"

Lya gives Alex a weak smile. "Sounds rather fitting to me. He's been doing this long enough."

She turns to the Mimir. "The Furies and I could probably sneak Rikki out of Asgard with us... but what about the Well? I don't want this to just happen to someone else all over again, you know?"

Orithia sidles over to Rikki and sizes her up. "I think I know what she's got in mind," she tells the woman as she starts unbuckling the straps on her armor. "You're about a size 12, right? I think you'd fit my clothes."

"All right, then. We do it," Alex says. "And quickly, before Odin learns about it. Rikke, make your farewells."

The woman nods and blinks back tears, but she does not wail or lament. "Goodbye, Father. Go to your rest, now."

"Do as you have promised, Son of Tyr," Mimir says. "I am willing."

Alex takes a deep breath. He knows the power is there, it has to be. He had seen a Valkyrie before he even knew he was a Scion. He's seen ghosts and spoken to them. He's been in Hel's realm, where the goddess herself spoke of his encroaching upon her domain.

He remembered what it was like to make his first summation in court.

"If you stammer or fumble for words, you'll lose," his professor had told him. "The jury needs to see you being confident. You're the voice of reason, the one to guide them and assure them of the facts they'll be taking into consideration. You want to be friendly, but you also want to be a voice of authority."

"I release you, Mimir. Be free of the chains binding you to this world," Alex said quietly. "May you find the peace you desire."

"Thank you," Mimir's voice answers. He chuckles. "There is no cat. How glorious!"

And though it is a tired metaphor, there is a soft sighing sound that marks the Oracle's release and passing.

"Drink from the Well ..." his voice says as it fades upon the wind.

Phoebe crouches down next to the well and dips her water bottle into it before handing to Lya. "Care to do the honors?" she asks with a smile and small laugh. "You seem to have the better luck when it comes to drinking unidentifiable fluids."

Lya chuckles and takes the water bottle. "Bottoms up!" she declares before taking a drink and passing the bottle over to Alex. "A little warm, and there's a taste of wood and lichen to it... but all in all I've had worse."

Alex takes a long pull from the bottle. "Hmm. A bit like mineral water. Not too metallic, though. Wonder what it's supposed to do?"

Alex starts to hand the flask to Evie, but she puts up her hand and shakes her head, "No. That was for you and Lya. I'm not the one who freed Mimir or the one who sympathized with his plight. Once Lya brought it up, I certainly agreed with her and with the decision to let him pass. But, this is entirely for you."

"So, what now? We need to get Rikke out and to a safe place before we talk to Odin, again, I think," Evie has already turned her attention to other things. " He may not immediately recognize her in Orithia's clothes, but he can count and will notice if we have an extra person, unless someone is staying behind. And, if someone stays...I'm not entirely certain that we'll be able to get back to retrieve them."

"Beats me, " Lya shrugs. "but at least it's water."

She looks over to Orithia and sees her finishing with the buckles and straightening Rikki's hair as she disguises her in the armor.

"When we leave here, if we manage to get Rikki past Odin we're going to be staying in Asgard on borrowed time and will need to be able to get home as soon as possible." She walks over and puts a reassuring hand on Orithia's shoulder. "Soon as we get home I will summon you to my side with my staff. Keep your head down, and try to stay out of sight."

Orithia offers a half smile as she chuckles. "If I hadn't known you'd have a plan, I wouldn't have volunteered."

"I'll track down Hrofgar and see if he can give us transport back home. I don't know if you've got anything else you need to do here, Alex... because I don't know if they're going to welcome us back after today. I imagine you'll want to talk to Heimdall, Evie?"

Evie smacks her forehead, "Derp! I'm so used to you guys always being around that I completely forget that you're all magical and summonable." She chuckles and shakes her head.

"Yeah, I definitely want to talk to Heimdall. If nothing else, I want to be near him when the news hits about what we've done. Aside from wanting to watch his big screen, I want to know his feelings about Mimir. I imagine that Odin is not going to be happy, so I'm hoping that Dad will have our back."

"She just can't bear to part with us," Toxic chuckles.

"Also wouldn't hurt to make sure we have a back-up plan to get home... considering Hrofgar's satchel was a gift from Odin and all," Lya replies.

"No, I don't have anything else I need to do. I mean, it's interesting, and I don't doubt I could have an epic adventure or two ... but I'm not from here, Lya," Alex says. "Even my military experience is from a different world. To be honest, I fight my battles in the courtroom."

"I feel ya," Lya replies with a laugh. "I doubt they have many punk concerts on Mt. Olympus, let alone have anywhere for us to plug in our amps."

"All right... so when we head out, I suggest Evie talk to Odin and try to keep him distracted while the ladies and I head back to find Hrofgar. Rikki, you stay in the middle with the Furies and try not to make any eye contact." she looks around to everyone and takes a deep breath. "So... we ready to do this?"

Klepto wraps an arm around Rikki and smiles. "You'll like Earth, and we've always got room for one more at our place. Do you play an instrument by any chance?"

"I'm ready. I'll just tell Odin that I have some ideas and need to consult Dad. I'm not going to indicate that we are actually done. I figure since I've already come up to ask questions once, he won't be phased by me coming out to ask more," Evie says. "I don't want to outright lie to him. I'm afraid he would catch that. So, vagueness and omission are my friends!"

After a moment of thought, Evie adds, "You know, you may want to have Rikki stay with Arky. I don't know exactly how pissed Odin will be. I mean...I don't _think_ he would actually go hunting her down. If anything, I think he would only strike out at her is she was right there in front of him, but...".

"...Lyman used Alex's aura to hide what he was doing. What's to say the same thing won't work for us? Maybe the aura of another Scion will keep Rikki at least semi-hidden?"

"I don't know if he's still living in the tunnels back home. I may have to see if I can look him up when we get back, though. Family, and all that," Lya winks.

"Good thinking. And she's another Oracle," Alex said. "Apollo was the patron of Delphi among other things. Although, depending on how badly the All-Father's knickers get knotted, we might be hearing from other pantheons as to how there still needs to be the cosmic gunfight at the OK Corral."

"Only the Norse Gods would be pissy at finding out they all don't have to die in a battle that destroys the world..." Lya mutters.

"Some people fear a boring life more than an exciting death," Rikke replies sagely.

"It's better to burn out, than to fade away?" Lya jokes.

"Exactly."

"I'd rather focus on living," Lya scoffs. "But if they still want to settle their cosmic differences after all of this, I'll gladly show them how to play Rock Paper Scissors."

The party returns to the surface, whereupon Orithia makes a dismissive gesture and stomps off to the cottage.

The All-Father nods sagely, as if such is routine. You wonder if he's dragged others here before to prise additional tidbits from Mimir's visions. Still, if he has any inkling as to what actually transpired, he's keeping it under his hat.

"So. You return. I trust old Mimir wasn't too hard on you?" he chuckles. "Regardless, you all seem to be whole and healthy. Come, tell me what you learned!"

"Well, it's hard to say," Evie gazes thoughtfully at Odin as she speaks.

_I can tell him the first three prophecies and still be truthful. It's the fourth that he need not know about, just yet. And, of course, Mimir's death. At least, not until Rikke is clear._

"You know the first prophecy. We'll have to choose between man and god. We know that Alex will most likely kill Fenris. And, we know that, to beat Loki, we have to find what he is looking for ourselves." She looks to the All-Father and continues, "That's why I would like to go back to the Vantage and speak with Heimdall, again. I think he may be able to help us in our search for Loki's lost reality. I'm not sure if the others are up for traveling, though."

She looks back to her companions, giving them the option to come or go as they wish, "As you know, speaking with Mimir can be...taxing. I can always catch back up with them and tell them what I have found."

"Nay, if we ride out, we do so together," Odin says. "It would not be right to leave any of you here at the roots of the World Tree. And Bifrost is as good a place to take you as any, for you may depart to Midgard from its span."

He looks at Alex. "It is fitting that you be the one to kill Fenris, to avenge your father's misfortune. I trust this comes to pass before the Wolf pays me a visit?"  
"It appear so," Alex replies. "I do not imagine Fenris would stoop to meddling further with Midgard if he had already assailed Asgard and the All-Father."

"The future and the past are incredibly similar," Lya adds. "They both can tell you a lot if you can manage to look at them without bias." she laughs and shakes her head. "Unfortunately for us, that's pretty difficult... right? Everything we see we can't help but interpret, because _we've_ seen it. The hard part is letting our _beliefs_ go and accepting what _is."_

She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder. "I can't leave from Bifrost without my peeps... and it looked like Orithia wasn't feeling too good which is why she went back to the house. Couldn't we just leave with Hrofgar?"

At first, it makes you wonder if Odin's upbeat manner is a trick - and then you realize it's 100% genuine, because he has no reason to think you would work against him in this matter. In fact, you asked him about Ragnarok, so why wouldn't you be working to his advantage?

There's a repeat of the ride to Yggdrasil, a whirling blur of motion. In some ways, it's like being a child again and watching cars slow down and move 'backwards' on the freeway. In others, it's every last trip where you didn't feel well - from being car sick to flying with a head cold.

The All-Father is still beaming as you arrive at Bifrost. A round of cursory, "My Lord Odin' and you're on your way to the Vantage. Heimdall's back is to you, and he is scanning the Nine Worlds as is his burden.

"You return," he says quietly. "Know that I have seen as you have, but it is not yet a thing that is done."

"It will be a glorious thing long desired," Odin opines, not twigging to the double-meaning.

"The question remains as to where you wish to begin," Heimdall tells you. "You may go in search of your friend, as his fate is still closely linked to your own. Or, you may ride where you must, and trust that Hitoshi will find you in the proper time. But it is a decision only you can make."

Evie nods, feeling the taut coil of unease unwind from her chest. Heimdall knows. He knows what they seek and what they have done, but he is not tipping the hand to Odin.

"Dad, you know what we're looking for. I would ask if you could find it, but I know that you have a huge job to do, already," she gestures out across the Vantage, indicating his constant vigil over the worlds. "Would it be possible for me to borrow a spot here, for a little while, to search myself?"

She looks to the rest of the group, "If Heimdall is okay with me staying, then I will do this. But, what about Hitoshi? He needs to be warned that he's being manipulated, if he doesn't already know.. (And he might.) Plus, is it his reality where Alex will meet Fenris?"

She walks up to stand beside Heimdall and gazes at the starry expanse below her. "Your eyes do indeed see much Lord Heimdall," Lya replies and then continues in a soft whisper for Heimdal's ears alone. "More than others are willing to see."

She turns around and speaks to the others. "What do you guys think? I did see Hitoshi in my vision, so there is that. Do we have any leads if we go back home to our reality?"

"Well, if we go back home...we might be able to catch Lyman off-guard, if we still need to confront him at this point. We know what he was hiding with the explosion and what he plans, so it means that we're a step ahead of him, there. And, we know that at least one child of Fenris is in the mix, there, as well. It might be worth going back," Evie looks to Lya who stands on the other side of Heimdall. She can't say anything to her friend without alerting Odin, but she hopes that she is giving them a good excuse to go back and hide Rikke. After all, who knows where Arky is or who he may be in Hitoshi's reality?

"It's ironic that Hitoshi went to the castle by himself to ... I don't know, take the burden on his shoulders, but in doing so, he's become caught up in a express lane to hell," Alex frowns. "I can't see leaving him to twist in the wind, but I think he's further down on our to-do list. But it's probably the fact that he's still in a reality where Ragnarok - um ... what's the right way to put it? - goes according to prophecy, maybe. Loki and Fenris can use that to drag it all back and drop it into our laps."

Evie sighs, "Then we need to find Loki's reality...quickly. There are countless realities that they could be (and probably are) massaging to line everything up in their favor. We can't be everywhere at once."

She then looks back to Heimdall, "May I stay, please?" Evie awaits her father's answer. After all, whether she stays or goes affects the group's plans. If she stays, then whether to try to help Hitoshi, hide Rikki, or both falls squarely upon Alex and Lya's shoulders. At least, for a bit. Evie has no plans to abandon them. It just means that, like her time spent researching on the databases back home, she'll be a little occupied before she can get back to them.

"Good intentions and all that," Lya chuckles. "Before you know it your intentions are controlling you... not the other way around."

She runs a hand through her hair and thinks for a moment. "Ok... so if we leave Hitoshi in the hopes that he can handle things on his end, what's the plan?" Lya asks the group. "We know Loki is trying to corrupt Ragnarok for his own benefit, but we don't know whether he's in our reality or another right now. Same goes for Fenris and his kids."

She snaps her fingers as her eyes brighten and she turns to Heimdall. "You could show us Fenris in our reality, couldn't you? We only caught bits about him in the visions... knowing who he is pretending to be might give us a place to start."

Heimdall's tone is part stern guardian and part indulgent parent. A 'Take Our Daughters to Work' T-Shirt, and he'd be all set.

"Yes," he says to Evie. "You may look."

As Evie moves to the Vantage, Heimdall looks at Lya. "I will not speak over much of what Laufeyson and Fenris are up to, in this reality or any other, lest it color your perceptions."

Another sly reference to letting the notion of Ragnarok predispose the Aesir to a military solution. Lya imagines it must be interesting - to be able to see across the Nine Worlds and yet have a liege lord who believes that he sees with superior acumen.

Evie doesn't flinch as she steps up to the Vantage. Heimdall's role is no different than that of any law enforcement officer - not the sensationalized accounts in the media, but the officers who sacrifice to watch over their towns and cities and states.

"Fenris," she breathes. "What are you up to in our world, our reality?"

The vision uncoils like the wolf you are hunting ...

"Do you know who I am?" raged the man. "I am a United States Senator! I dem-"

"You are a tool," comes the answer. "I will make you President."

"I'm listening," the Senator said.

"No. I am the one who will listen ... for now," said Fenris.

Of course. It's like Colonel Ellison. A substitution. A doppelganger who can do what needs to be done, with no allegiances, past or present, to complicate matters. A doppelganger who will become President of the United States ...

"Just because _we_ know the truth doesn't mean they won't still destroy the world in order to prove their lies," Lya mutters angrily. "Might as well change my name to Cassandra."

She glances over at Evie who's eyes have glazed over as she stares into the ether and sighs before glancing up at Heimdall's towering form. "I've kept my mouth shut out of respect for my friends as this is their home, but it's eating me up inside. How do you do it?"

"Both Evie and Alex work in law enforcement," Heimdall said. "Evie goes where the evidence leads her, even if that path is to truths that prove uncomfortable for herself and for others. Alex also pushes past what is accepted to find what is just and fair. You could not ask for better friends in your quest, Lya Bach."

"I cannot see the future as you do, because I am not you," Heimdall said. "I am written into the fabric of Ragnarok, and you seek to change not merely a thread or color, but the tapestry as a whole. If I could not govern myself to stand and watch, then I would be taking up arms against you. You see an alternative we cannot, and possess the courage to seek it out, embrace it, in a way we never can."  
"If anything, it is I who should stand and marvel at what _you_ do."

"If you guys are determined to die in battle then that's your choice and I won't stand in the way of that," Lya replies. "I will, however, fight till the end over the belief that _you have a choice_ and no one can take it away from you. Not Loki... not Fenris... and not Odin."

"But I have made a choice, Lya," Heimdall says quietly. "I saw what you did for Mimir, and what you are doing for Rikke. And I have not told the All-Father about your choices. Oh, he will learn of it in time through his own sources, but I trust Evie will learn what she needs to and that you will be on your way before Odin is in a position to interfere."

Evie's vision clears, resolving back into the Vantage and the others who stand, talking quietly as they await news.

The detective shakes her head and steps back, moving to Lya and Alex's side, "He's going to use the same ploy in our world that he was in Castle World. Fenris is going to use a doppelganger to replace the president. The man who will be put into power is a senator."

"I didn't get a look at Fenris," she continues, "but I did recognize the senator. He's a moderate from Montana. His name escapes me, though. Give me a minute and I can look him up...if we get wifi at the Vantage."

Evie digs into a small pouch she had bought back in the village, rattling around her keys as she digs out the phone. There's still just a smidgeon of a charge and she's not sure it'll work, here, but...no harm in trying!

"Thank you, Heimdall... you are an honorable man," Lya whispers before turning to respond to Evie.

"Well that gives us somewhere to start I guess. Do we go back and try and track him down? Maybe see if we can find the original? I doubt we'll be lucky enough to find him frozen in a hotel this time around."

"I think that's a good starting point. You'll need to do everything that you can to slow down Fenris' plans. I have no idea how long it will take me to sort through everything and find what we need. The good news is that once I do find it, I can easily get back to Vegas from here."

She gives Lya a knowing look and adds softly, "And I'm going to be working as fast as I can. I don't want to be here too long."

_No one wants to be here when Odin finds out what we did..._

"From what Evie described, it sounds like Fenris is going to interrogate the real Senator, wring him dry, and then take his place. Classic Cold War Hollywood spycraft," Alex says. "The only reason it's feasible is because we're talking Scions and whatever the Fenris Wolf is. A supernatural creature."

"Midsummer recess. Senate's on break for several weeks, so he doesn't need to be on Capitol Hill. He could disappear to a ranch, a cabin by the lake, whatever ... and when he comes back, it'll either be a double or someone who has been made compliant, like Soleil Hunter did with the DA's office."

Evie's cell phone lights up and shows full coverage.

"A benefit of the office," says Heimdall. "Who do you think places those calls to the anonymous tip line?"

Evie's eyes crinkle and a soft chuckle escapes her lips. It's not that the situation they are in is funny but...it's kind of comforting to know that Heimdall takes an active hand in things, even if it is simply making a call now and again, _You are awesome, Dad!_

Turning her attention back to the phone, she does a quick search, "Okay...here he is. Senator Justin Holliwell. He's a moderate. Been under fire for a lot of his views by more conservative peers. But, that may actually be a good thing as far as votes. There are a lot more people who are middle of the road, I think. It's just that the crazy extremes tend to be louder. If he can balance everything well, he could win by virtue of being less insane than any other candidate."

She turns so that Alex and Lya can see the picture before she continues her searching, "Let's find out where this guy lives...what his hobbies are...which pies does he have his fingers in...

"I'm not sure how I feel about us splitting up the group even more," Lya says as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth. "Especially since our welcome here is going to expire soon." She sighs and looks at Evie. "I can't argue with the benefits, though."

She stands in front of Evie and pokes her. "If I find anybody here hurt you while I'm gone, I swear to all that's holy they'll learn what it's like to suffer Dionysus's wrath. So do us all a favor and take care of yourself, OK?"

Evie laughs and catches Lya in a hug, squeezing her tightly. "Don't you worry about me," she says as she lets go. "I'll be safe here."

More softly, she says, "I'm sure Dad will watch over me while I search. And, I'm going to get you what you need to convince everyone. I promise that I will work as fast as I can and get back to you."

She grins and pokes Lya, "So _you_ stay safe! I'm afraid my powers of persuasion consist of the "are you blind?" and "you're a dumbass" techniques, which would probably go over like a lead balloon."

"We're a team. We look out for each other," she smiles warmly. "I'll also keep an eye on you from here, if I can. If I see anything that I can warn you about, I'll call or text, okay?

Lya chuckles and winks. "You better! We don't have a good track record when we split up, so I am trusting you to break the trend."

"Trust me, I'd rather not split up, either. But time isn't on our side. We need that info and you need to slow things down in Vegas," Evie lets her eyes slide briefly to 'Orithia' and the message is clear. _You also need to hide her before Odin finds out._

"In the words of Ah-nuld, 'I'll be back!" she adds in a truly terrible Schwarzenegger impression.

"Hey, it's the _guys_ who have the bad track record," Alex laughs. "And first thing I need to do when I get back to Vegas is get some new clothes. I can't go running around in my Asgardian best, and if Lyman blew my house up, well, that's that."

Evie eyeballs Alex and opens her mouth as if to say something, then shuts it again, changing her mind.

Saul has an extra set of clothes at her house that _might_ fit Alex. She had been about to offer them up, thinking that Saul wouldn't mind. But, then...maybe he would mind if he found out. She's disappeared and suddenly a guy shows up at her place taking clothes...

Evie decides that Alex is more than capable of replacing his own clothes.

Lya laughs. "All right then... if we can leave from here, then I guess it's time to say our good-byes and till laters. Keep us informed, Evie, and I'll do my best to throw a wrench in Fenris' war machine."

"If you can stand the estrogen, you're more than welcome to camp at Casa Chaos, Alex," Lya offers as Klepto chuckles at the name.

She offers to shake Heimdall's hand. "Can't say it was a pleasure, sir... but it was definitely an honor. Your daughter does you credit."

"I still have my old office to crash at. It'll do," Alex says. "Done it enough while pulling all-nighters. Or I could see if there's a unit where Chris Clemens lives and shove it all in their faces."

He turns towards Evie and Heimdall. "Find out where this senator is. Maybe we can stop Fenris from taking his place or working whatever head games he has in mind."

"Lya, what else do we need to nail down at home? Can we work with Hitoshi's people, or is the Board of Directors going to close ranks and shut us out?"

Lya sighs and scratches the back of her neck with one hand as she pulls out her wallet with the other. She opens it and hesitates for a moment before pulling out a folded letter that was once crumpled into a ball and shows it to Alex.

"Well... according to this letter that Hitoshi left me when he disappeared, **I'm**the new CEO," she explains with obvious distaste. "Not that I want to run a company or that they'd welcome me with open arms..." her hands form into fists as a sly smile crosses her face. "but if it means getting to tell one of those Fenris bitches where to stick it I'll put on a suit."

"On it," Evie nods and turns back to the Vantage. She might be able to look up where Holliwell lives on the internet, but the Vantage can give them an idea of where he is at this very second.

"I'll pay good money to see that," Alex says. "You telling one of Fenris' whelps where to get off, not 'Lya in a suit.'"

He takes a closer look at the letter. "Where did this come from? Hmm. Westview letterhead. No date. It looks like his writing. And it sounds like him. Didn't he become CEO by acquiring shares through an agent?"

"I imagine his fingerprints are on it. There's nothing to say it isn't genuine. A court would likely rule in your favor."

"I dunno. Lya in a suit would be hawt!" Evie grins and quips over her shoulder as she prepares to find Holliwell.

"You know I rock the pinstripe," Lya chuckles in response to Evie's quip before turning back to Alex. "When we were in Castle World, Hitoshi's mom and I both received letters that he left for us before he disappeared into the castle. I don't know if it'll hold up in court, but it's sure to shake up their plans at least. I can keep them focused on preventing a potential take-over while we figure out how to stop their plans."

She smiles sweetly as she turns to the Furies. "Of course, this means that you guys are going to have wear suits too, you know. I think Phoebe will make a great executive assistant while Klepto and Toxic can be my bodyguards and Orithia can be my driver."

"And the power already goes to her head," Toxic chuckles.

"Drive?" Rikke asks in confusion. "I don't..."

"Oh... I meant my friend Orithia, Rikke," Lya quickly explains with a comforting smile. "First things first, when we get home we'll bring Orithia back and call my friend Arky to see if he can help you with a place to stay away from prying eyes."

"Heimdall? How do we get from here to Vegas? I mean, the Bifrost is the bridge between Asgard and Midgard, right?" asks Alex.

"It is, Tyrsson. It is not something a mortal can hope to do," Asgard's warder tells you. "Only Aesir, or another of divine blood can direct their steps. A mortal would be swept away as if they had stepped into a raging current.

"When you are ready, simply set your mind to your destination. Absent the intent to bridge realities, you will return to the world you left," Heimdall says. "Or, rather, the world you belong to, since you came here in a somewhat roundabout manner. Broaching realities is not a thing of accident, as storytellers would have it, but of deliberate action and, sometimes, malice."

As Evie waits to get started working, her thoughts drift. Seeing Saul mere moments before makes her consider, once again, calling him. She wants to allay his worry but...his fears are more well-founded than he knows. And, nothing has changed. If the enemy is monitoring her loved ones, then contacting them would only draw dangerous attention.

With a soft sigh, she once again puts her phone back in her pocket.

"Okay then... so I just click my heels and think of home. Got it," Lya replies with a smile. "Guess we're ready when you are, Alex."

"Hey Evie," Lya adds as she spies Evie's wistful look at her phone. "you... want me to send word to anyone for you when we get back?" She chuckles. "I've got lots of ways to get my message across if you're worried about them."

Evie blushes, not realizing that she had been quite so transparent. Despite that, she smiles gratefully before shaking her head, "Nah. I appreciate it but...I'm afraid it all would just take too much explaining!"

She chuckles, "I mean, how do you explain all of this..." and here, she waves her arms to indicate it all...themselves, the gods, Asgard..."...and not sound like a lunatic?"

"Besides, any other explanation that would be believable would make hiiii ..._them_...worry just as much as not knowing," she clears her throat and scratches at her cheek. "Don't you have Fenris stuff to do? Shoo!"

Evie blushes furiously and waves at the others to be off, still grinning.

We're off to see the Wizard ..." Alex begins, skipping a couple of steps. "Just kidding. I suppose we should beam down to Casa Chaos, since we're all dressed up in our medieval best."

"If anybody asks it's just dress rehearsal for our comeback show," Lya chuckles. "Let's do this. Are my roaming charges going to be ridiculous if we text?"

Alex digs his cell phone out of a pocket. Surprisingly, it had survived the ordeal of a fight with a troll, a trip to Hell, and a whirlwind tour of Asgard. He glances about, turns so part of the Bifrost is visible behind him, and motions for the others to gather around.

"Pics, or it didn't happen!" he shouts. Maybe the light show of Bifrost won't turn out as anything but a blur. And maybe it will be a crazy souvenir to share with the grand-kids in a world free of Ragnarok.

Evie laughs and jogs back over to take a place beside Alex. She stands beside him, waving Lya and the others over. Glancing over her shoulder at the Bifrost, she chuckles, "Anyone who sees this picture is going to think we were at some sort of crazy medieval disco...which isn't far-fetched for Vegas!"

Lya crouches in front of Alex and Evie and flashes the devil horns with both hands as the Furies gather around flexing arm muscles and grinning widely.

"Everybody say cheese!"

The photo is made even more spectacular as you realize Heimdall's stern profile is visible off to one side, gleaming armor and helm more fantastical than anything that's come out of Hollywood.

"Enjoy such moments when they happen," he says quietly. "And may your vision pave the way to a future with many more."

Evie nods and smiles at her celestial parent, "Hopefully so. It's what we're aiming for."

Turning back to Alex and Lya, she gives them both one more hug before parting ways, "I'll text as soon as I find anything out that will be helpful! And, I'll be right behind you. You guys stay safe."


	37. Bunraku

(Hitoshi)

As you enter the Great Hall, the ceiling is torn away, and you glance up to see a vortex of deepening blue. Debris, furnishings, the bodies of the living and the dead - all are being drawn into the maelstrom.

With the floors above you gone, the only route available - the only one that makes sense, at least - is to exit through the double doors leading into the hall and follow the corridor into the courtyard outside.

You only hope that the others make it out all right.

There's another twinge of pain from conflicting ... memories? - but you haven't the time to stop and sort things out.

Hitoshi looks at the swirling vortex for a second. "Good Job Guys. Nicely done." He says smiling before he continues his quick pace through the double doors and into the hallway.

As you make your way through the hallway, you do a double-take. In one moment, the hallway is much as it was - a standard castle hallway, augmented by work lights that flicker for a moment, then fail.

In the next, it's a debris-strewn passage with holes blasted in the wall, the stonework darkened with smoke and char. There's the smell of chemical propellant - not something you'd expect in this setting. The Einjehar might have something of the sort, but why would they be attacking their own stronghold?

You continue out through a cratered courtyard and reality does another tap-dance. The vertigo borders on nausea.

"Mr. Ryder, are you all right?" asks someone. "Hitoshi?"

Akane? Why is she here. No, not Akane. Mika Hanamura, your personal assistant.

"I'm fine. Just ... dizzy for a moment," you smile.

You are no longer standing on a battlefield, but a freshly-paved city street. Around you is the sound of construction, and the welcome sight of homes springing up where the explosion of a gas pipeline destroyed most of a neighborhood.

"Mr. Ryder!" someone else calls. "Mr. Ryder! Care to comment?" You turn to see a reporter and photographer approaching. "Megan Whittaker, KLAS," the woman says, beaming. "The rumor is that you're considering a run for Congress. Would you like to respond?"

Hitosi looks around, taking the moment of viewing the construction to formulate his response and get his bearings.

_"What would Lya say or do?"_ He mentally asks himself. After a moment he turns to the woman and smiles.

"Well Miss Whittaker, The future holds many things, most of them unknown. What I do know is the here and now, and the people that were displaced from this neighborhood when the gas main blew up. That is the main thing of concern for the near future, helping these people get back on their feet and back into their homes to try and continue a life that was so harshly interrupted. Congress is not my concern right now, the people are."

He bows low to the woman and looks around to find anyone he knows that might be in charge so that he could get himself back to the Westview Grand and away from the media spotlight.

"Mr. Ryder, the filing deadline is tomorrow," Whittaker presses. "Surely you have a clearer answer than that."

Other media crews are beginning to cluster, leaving off representatives from the utility and construction companies, as well as the Mayor's office. Mika whispers in your ear as if reminding you about an appointment, but simply asks, "Limousine?"

Hitoshi nods at Mika's words and then turns back to the reporter and smiles. "Well then Miss Whittaker, the news, like everyone else will have to wait and see if I file. However, I know the news will make their own speculation no matter what I say, so feel free to jazz it up. However, If I should decide to do so, you can have first exclusive."

With those words said, he follows Mika and ducks into the Limo.

"Get us out of here." He growls wincing at the pain in his head. He turns to Mika.

"This is going to sound weird, but whats going on here? I don't remember any of this."

Mika consults her tablet. "You have lunch with James Sokatsu, followed by a conference call with Toshiro Kimura at 2:30 PM. That's 6:30 AM, for him," she says. "Otherwise, your calendar is fairly light for the week."

Hitoshi starts to shake his head then stops. "Mika, Do you remember taking a ride with me and James out to an Abandoned Factory Warehouse?"

There is a marked silence. Uncomfortable, even. Mika bows her head. "How have I offended, Ryder-san?" she says quietly. The question seems odd, until you realize Mika is looking down at her left hand, where the joint of one finger has been severed in the traditional Yakuza punishment of _yubitsume. _Hitoshi's mind reels.

"Stop the car.. stop the fucking car!" The driver slams on the breaks causing the people behind him to swerve or slam on theirs. Angry honking ensues as Hitoshi staggers out onto the sidewalk. Ripping the lid off a nearby trashcan, he pukes up everything in his stomach, retching for a full minute until nothing is left and all he has is dry heaves. He leans back against the car, breathing heavily and attempting to understand what he had just seen.

After a moment he climbs back into the car, staring pointedly at Mika and grabbing her hand firmly but gently.

"Mika, did I make you do this?"

Mika's head remains bowed. "_Watashi wa warui koto o shimashita*_," she breathes. "It was my carelessness, and your right to demand atonement. You are the Oyabun of the Kuro Kuren. Punishment was required; you were more forgiving than others."

* Translation: I did a bad thing.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "No Mika... That wasn't me... I mean it might have been, but." He sighs. "Ah hell." He rubs his face with his hands.

Mika, How much do you know about me? Tell me all. But mainly, Tell me, Who is my father? And Who in the heck is the Kuro Kuren?"

"You are Hitoshi Ryder, Oyabun of the Kuro Kuren, the Black Crane Ryu," she says. "To the public, you are a wealthy Japanese-American philanthropist. To the Cranes, you are father and mentor. To your enemies, you are an implacable foe."

Hitoshi shakes his head. "This is wrong. This is all wrong." He mutters to himself.

"Mika, I need to talk to Kimura now."

"Who?" Mika asks.

"A man named Toshiro Kimura, I need you to use our resources and find him." Hitoshi says suddenly

"Hai," she says. She resumes working on her tablet. After a moment, she hands you the device. A list of men named Kimura is displayed - a couple with the first initial T, one using the diminutive of Shiro, and one using the full name.

All of the addresses and numbers are in Japan.

"Perfect, thank you."

He takes the PDA and cross references the names with a company called Pacific Rim to see if there are any matches.

There's a hit, but the information strikes you as incorrect. Still, given that so much else has changed, it isn't that much of a surprise.

Pacific Rim is a seafood importer. You've probably done business with them by way of restaurant supplies.

"Mika, when we get back, check to see if we have done business with this company." He says passing the PDA back to her. After that he leans back in the seat and closes his eyes sighing.

_"Stuff has changed, but how much has changed. IS this an evil world like on start trek? Should I be expecting everyone to wear goatees or something?"_He thinks to himself.

The limousine lurches unexpectedly, and you hear something - several somethings - break against the side of the vehicle. Burning propellant drips against the windows.

"I'm sorry, Ryder-san," the driver says. "Protesters." There's the bloop-wail of a police siren, and a voice barking out orders for the crowd to disperse. In response, the limousine begins to rock. "Deploying anti-personnel measures."

You feel a chill run down your spine, fearing some heavy-handed countermeasure. A crump-hiss precedes a cloud of CS gas issuing from vents on the side of the underbody, forcing protesters back.

However, you are startled when Mika opens a small centerline console and takes out a 10mm Desert Eagle. A second one is easily available for your own use. She holds hers against the door, and you realize the limousine is fitted with a full executive security suite. CS gas. Bulletproof glass. Gun ports. There are likely Kevlar panels and armor surrounding the passenger compartment.

"... arrest," continues the stern voice. "LVPD will engage with non-compliant citiz- gakkkkk!"

You spin, looking for yet another threat. You can't see the officer that was attacked, but another man, also clad in tactical gear, is dropped by an arrow lancing through the visor of his helmet. There's a wild ululating cry as you see several other officers felled by arrows.

"Maenads!" another voice barks. "Return fire! Return fire! Ret-"

The limousine begins rocking again. "Come out and play-ay," a female voice taunts.

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. "Sooo, This is the point I'm going to tel you that I am not your Hitoshi, and that I'm starting to think I'm in an alternate dimension. Now that that's out of the way, I need to know what in the fuck is going on with the situation, and I mean the world situation. Why are Meanads attacking us? Am I really that much of a douchbag in this universe?"

"You are Hitoshi Ryder," Mika says. "You are the Oyabun of the Kuro Kuren. If you feel you have left some part of yourself in an 'alternate dimension,' you will want to find it in the next few minutes.

"Suffice to say, there are those who believe people such as yourself should be 'doing more' to alleviate the suffering in the Dark Times. Douchebag? They see you as a scapegoat. Donate a thousand, a hundred thousand, a million, it does not matter. The Maenads and their leader see you and the authorities as the perpetrators of their misfortune. You must deal with them as you dealt with my father's clan. Those who oppose you must be struck down."

Hitoshi sighs. "I honestly have a feeling I am not going to like this new universe. Why can't I just go back to fighting Lymann." He mutters.

"Give me a quick rundown. How often do these Maenads attack, and just who is their leader?" He asks as he reaches to the floor for Honjo Masamune.

"They are unpredictable, although they have been getting bolder of late," Mika says. "No one knows who their leader is. She is said to be as charismatic as she is vicious."

A man's face is mashed against the window. "Hup mh," he mumbles. A moment later, there's the sharp report of a pistol, and he slides out of view, leaving a trail of gore behind. As a sharper crack/crunch sounds, you realize the byplay was a distraction. A tool like the Jaws of Life is being used to breach the car. You reach for Honjo Masamune and find only a plain wooden cane. There is, of course, the Desert Eagle sitting in the center console.

Hitoshi's eyes narrow at the realization that Honjo Masamune was not at his feet. "Ok, someones either fucking with me, or trying to teach me something." He Mutters. He grabs the gun and checks the chamber. He didn't like guns per say, and wasn't the best at them, but he knew enough to know how to shoot one. "I think they want in to say hello. How far away are we from the Westview, or whatever this version of me uses as home base?"

"I'll have to crash the police line," the driver says. "I apologize for any ... discomfort."

A hydraulic rescue tool crimps the roof and begins to peel it back. A horrific visage leers in at you: pinpoint pupils, stained teeth, smear of blood and viscera on its cheeks and lips. Matted, damp hair. You hear the driver rev the engine briefly. The vehicle jerks as he floors the pedal. At the same time, you realize there are now two maenads worrying at the roof line, and they are being carried with you. Hitoshi places the gun against the face of the Maenad peering at him and pulls the trigger, watching her head blow away.

"Forgive me, but I don't pick up hitchhikers."

He's slammed against the side of the car as the driver takes a sharp turn.

"Don't worry about throwing them off, Mika and I can take care of them, just concentrate on getting us back in one piece." He tells the driver.

"Hai!" acknowledges the driver. The car fishtails a little as it picks up speed.

The roar of the Desert Eagle is impressive. So is the damage it does to the Maenad. Her head explodes in a gout of gore and chunky gobbets of flesh. The body falls, its hand clinging stubbornly to the jagged edge of the roofline, and she is dragged for several blocks before the flesh finally tears away.

"Aaaaaah!" you hear Mika cry out, see the Maenad on her side halfway into the vehicle. There's a gash on Mika's arm that is welling red with blood, and she's no longer holding her gun.

Hitoshi hauls Mika over to his side of the car, jamming the Desert Eagle into the Maenad's open snarling mouth and pulls the trigger.

"I said no goddamn hitchhikers!"

He growls, getting annoyed. the car lurches, spoiling his aim and the bullet craters the security glass in the side window. The Maenad slides inside landing face first on the seat where Mika was sitting moments before. Hitoshi's foot lashes out, pinning the creatures neck against the door and the Desert Eagle barks once, twice, three times in rapid succession. The first two bullets damage door components, but the third one connect with its target and the body goes limp.

"And this is why I don't normally use handguns. I suck with them."

He pulls out a small under seat medical kit, and does a quick but ugly job of sterilizing and bandaging Mika's wound.

"You alright?" He asks softly.

"Stings," Mika says, gritting her teeth. "A handgun is no different than a sword or tonfa. They are tools that you can learn to master."

"Coming up on the checkpoint," the driver says, finally slowing.

You turn your gaze forward and see a fortified barrier closing off one end of the Strip. The limousine pulls past a steel barrier that is quickly lowered behind you. The driver stops on a yellow-striped area; you see remote cameras and some kind of detection rig dip down to examine the vehicle.

"… transporting Hitoshi Ryder and his executive assistant Mika Hanamura back to the Westview Grand," the driver explains. "We were attacked by Maenads en route from the new housing developments."

A squad of troops deploys upon an overlooking walkway, covering the vehicle.

"Sorry about this, folks - we're going to have to move you to quarantine," a voice informs you over a loudspeaker. "Please step out of the car. Anything in the trunk? Looks like a write-off, but some decent executive protection."  
"No," says the driver. "It's a standard CCS Tier III."

You are taken into the bunker and hustled off to adjacent but separate rooms that are sparsely furnished. A bed, table, and chair. There's a bathroom with a stall shower, all done in institutional drab. A nurse enters shortly thereafter, accompanied by an MP.

"If you'll have a seat, Sir, I need to take your vitals and a blood sample," she says. "Are you current with your tetanus shots? You can get all sorts of nasty shit from Maenads."

"Tools they may be, but they are impersonal. It takes no honor to use a gun. I prefer the old methods." Hitoshi replies solemnly.

At the checkpoint he gets out, leaning on the cane and goes where directed.

"All my shots should be up to date Miss." He replies smiling grimly as he rolls up a sleeve.

"How is my Assistant doing?"

"I'm sure she's fine," the nurse tells you. "She'll be put on a course of antibiotics as a precaution, and we'll replace the dressing. That was a good job of field dressing."

She makes some notations.

"They didn't try to stick you with anything, did they? Needles, knives?" she asks. "No spittle or liquid thrown at you?"

You answer in the negative.

"All right, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but ... well, the colonel can explain it to you. The room is monitored, but there's a call button by the bed if you experience anything unusual - any pain, any dizziness, so on."

The nurse and the MP leave.

Twenty minutes later, the door opens again and a senior officer - the colonel the nurse mentioned - enters the room. He is dressed in digital camo utilities, with a sidearm on his left hip. His right hand is a articulated prosthetic. "Good morning, Mr. Ryder," he says. He doesn't offer to shake your hand. "I'm Colonel North."

North? You find yourself looking at the face of a friend ... and seeing a stranger. There's a much harder edge to this man, and - of course - a missing limb.

Hitoshi looks away after a moment. "Sorry, you reminded me of someone I know."

He sits back down. "What can I help you with Colonel? I know I'm not a terrorist so I'm happy to chat."

"Personally, I'd like to thank you for helping get the new housing development going. It's something we sorely needed," Colonel North says. "But the Maenads seem to be ramping up for something. I'm hoping you or your people might have seen something that would give us a clue as to what they're planning. Pushing past the I-15 Break doesn't make sense, unless they've been bringing in reinforcements."

Hitoshi shrugs. "They probably just hate me. You know how it is, People never appreciate the help you try to give others in need, or the sacrifices you make in the name of others,they always think you should do more,"

He gestures at Colonel's Norths arm.

"but I don't think I need to tell you that Colonel, you've already given your service, and more, and are still doing it. As for the housing development, No need to thank me, I have a duty to the people as one of the elite, and I will see that duty through to it's end."

He cracks his knuckles.

"So, tell me, you didn't lose that arm in a helicopter crash, did you?" He says the words, then waits for the reaction to come.

"There aren't many people on the other side of the Break who think anyone is doing much of anything," North tells you. "That's just the way it is. No one is happy that parts of the country are falling by the wayside, but it's hard to fix things while people are busy tearing them down."

"Helicopter crash?" he asks. The prosthetic hand flexes. "Nope. It was a manual safety - pull, twist, hold for three minutes. Great system, unless the Mudjehadeen are shelling the building. Got perforated by shrapnel, I'm lucky to be here."

Hitoshi grimaces. "Ouch. Well thank you for your service. Sorry other people don't feel the same as I do about it."

He relaxes. "So, what else can I do for you, considering I'm not sure why the Maenads were attacking me?"

"You're welcome," North says. "Rehabilitation was a challenge, but I'm not a quitter. Wasn't going to be some mopey-ass homebody at 24."

"But enough about me. You're the only one who got attacked. News crews, the Mayor, the Maenads didn't bother with them," he adds. "So either they fucked up their intel, or you were the target. Ransom, perhaps. Though I've heard rumors that your security people take their jobs seriously."

"Nah, their intel was right on I bet, and I realized i may have spoken too soon when i said i have no idea why they are attacking me, I might have an idea now that i thought about it as to why, but if I voice it you would slap me in a straitjacket and ship me off. Suffice to say, I doubt this will be the last time they decide to grace me with their presence." Hitoshi says sighing.

"Strategic value," North says. "It's something you know, something you possess, or something you are. You wouldn't happen to be privvy to launch codes, would you? Be President Wolf's son-in-law? Didn't think so.

"I'd tighten up security at home, or headquarters, whatever. If these crazy bitches want to start a shooting war, we're ready for them. Anyway, the doctors want to keep you overnight for observation, and while they run the blood panels on each of you.

"It's not that they're poisonous, it's just that Maenads tend to be disease carriers. You get bit, you can end up with a super infection that'll drop you like a rock."

"Mmm" Hitoshi says nodding. "Well they will find my security most difficult to get past, and even if they did, I'm no pushover."

Although quarantine is a bit like being in prison, the relative quiet and isolation gives you time to think about the changed world in which you find yourself.

This is a Hitoshi Ryder who is markedly more ruthless, or at least less temperate in his business dealings. A man who required a subordinate to perform yubitsume. And, if Mika's response was any indication, a man whose trusted agent, James Sokatsu, may be just as cold-blooded.

You find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror, wondering what twist of fate created the man you see. The absence of Honsho Masamune is disturbing - does it mean you are no longer a Scion, or simply that the Lord of Nets hasn't recognized a son who is more ronin than samurai? Or that he is the one pulling the strings, sifting through alternate outcomes to find the Hitoshi Ryder who will do as he's told?

No. That sounds too much like Lyman's sales pitch.

But how to get back to the way things should be? Save this world, rehabilitate it - or bring about its demise?

After two hours of staring at the cieling or trying to read the crappy Magazines left in the room, Hitoshi stands. 'Screw this, I need some air." He steps outside the room, and the two soldiers raise their weapons.

"What are you doing sir?" One asks uncertainly.

"I'm going into the courtyard for some air. If you are going to shoot me, then shoot me, if your going to follow, then follow, But I'm going for a walk inside the compound." With those words said he starts walking towards the doors that exit to the outside.

"It's this way, Right?"

"Sir, I'll say this once: return to your room," the MP frowns.

As you continue walking towards the nearest set of doors, you hear one MP calling for an immediate lockdown. You glance over your shoulder in time to see the other MP raising a bright yellow pistol.

You barely feel the darts lodge in your back, but their presence is made clear when the muscles in your legs spasm, and you fall to the floor, twitching. A corner of your mind tells you to get up, but the Taser has you curling into a ball.

"Withdraw," a voice says over a speaker. Colonel North. The MP's snap to attention and exit through the double doors. You hear the bolts engage. Without the Taser being engaged, you recover quickly enough, yanking the darts out of your skin and tossing them aside.

There's no place for you to go except back to your room, which you do. Whereupon you hear North's voice over another speaker.

"Have a seat. I'll be down to talk to you in a bit," he says.

He isn't long in showing up.

"I lied," he says. "I know exactly why the Maenads want you. You weren't kidding when you said you were among the elite. You have a specific genetic marker in your blood, though none of the eggheads seem to know what it is, precisely.  
"But the Maenads believe you're connected to their gods or goddesses or whatever that pagan nonsense is. They want you for stud service, apparently."

Hitoshi frowns then cracks his neck and stands, He starts pacing the room with his hands crossed behind his back.

"Yea, I knew about the Marker. Remember when I said I knew something that you'd probably consider me crazy for? Yea, it has to do with that, and what I know. I also know you probably won't like it because it may include you."

He pauses. "You might have the same Markers because you might be like me."

"That doesn't tell me anything. I've had to do a lot of reading on this genetics nonsense because some lab coats back at Fort Detrick think it's important," North grumbles. "It's some kind of Illuminati garbage, like every other conspiracy theory that comes down the pike. New world order, space aliens, ancient gods."  
"So what god or goddess are you supposed to be? And why do you think I'm part of the same club?"

Hitoshi shakes his head. "Nono, not a god. Its more like descendant of one. And mine is Hachiman. Yours, should be Tyr... if things hold true here. Have you been tested?"

He leans back in his chair. "Look, if I say anything more, I'm going to sound batshit crazy, instead of just crazy. What I will say is there's some pretty fucked up shit happening."

"Tyr? Doesn't ring a bell. All senior military commanders were tested. We didn't find out what they were testing _for_ until months later," North tells you. "I hate to break the news to you, but I'm a Mark 1 Mod 0 human being. I'm not saying the marker doesn't exist, or that you don't have it - the blood tests will come back fast enough - but I ain't part of the club."

"Now, the Break hit everyone pretty bad. Got a lot of people worrying about End Times and the hereafter," he says. "People want to go run off to church or dance naked around a bonfire, that's up to them. But you start declaring yourselves sovereign powers with 'the truth,' me and my men are here to kick some goddamn sense into your behinds."

"Nope, not here to take over or start a religion. I'm just trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do in the place, kick any ass that needs to be kicked, and get back to where I belong. Right now though it appears the only thing for me to do is sit here till I can leave, or until I'm sure you will hear me out on anything I might have to say." Hitoshi replies with a flip of his hand.

"However, I do have one question, maybe two."

"Kicking ass is our job, Mr. Ryder. If you choose to go play with the Maenads, you're on your own," North says. "Now, neither you or your driver were injured, so we're probably safe in releasing you short of the precautionary quarantine. Your secretary is another thing. She has to stay for the full period."

"Oh, and the disinterested millionaire thing? Stow it. You had your chance to be up front, and you wanted to go for a walk. We cut you loose, and now you want to bend my ear. I don't know what planet you come from, but that's not how we do business in the National Guard."

Hitoshi holds up his hands. "Look Colonel North I honestly don't mean to give you the run around but please see it from my view, would you want to be viewed as crazy even by today's standards with wild women running around? All I wanted to do was get some fresh air and try to figure out what I should explain and how I should say it, and no one said I wasn't allowed to go out of my room till I stepped out. As for Mika, I'm not leaving without her. She's one of mine and I'll stand by her just as much as you'd stand by your own. So I have plenty of time. The question is, how much do you have and will you do me the honor of listening and not calling me crazy? Because I know, or knew a man by the name if Alex North who served in the Army and he would have. The first part is what you two gave in common, do you gave the second?"

He looks at the man with a tired defeated look on his face.

"Because I honestly have no idea what us going on here. I don't know this world, I don't know what the break is, and I want to go home, because I'm not from around here."

"The only person calling you crazy is yourself, Mr. Ryder," North tells you. "Sergeant Rogers asked you to return to your room, and you ignored him."

"If you have information, then let's hear it. If there's any more of this secret bullshit, we're done, and you'll be remanded to another unit, because my only concern is keeping this half of Vegas safe from the other half."

"That means making sure someone who was attacked by those roving germ bags - the Maenads - didn't infect your lady friend with a contagious pathogen."

He looks at you with narrowed eyes at your last words.

"You don't know this world? Pardon my French, but what the fuck does that mean? This is the only world we have, Ryder. Maybe it's fucked up more than we'd like it, but it's the only one we've got. It comes down to a simple choice. You're with us, or you're with them.

"I'd like to be home, too. I'd like to be teaching my son to play baseball. I'd like to sleep with my wife again. But I'm here, running a security cordon that's on the edge of becoming a no-man's land. So don't give me shit about wanting to go home. Go hop aboard your private jet and go there.

"The rest of us have a job to do."

"Okay then. Well here goes. No, this world isn't the only one. At least I don't think it is. Where I come from I am the CEO of the Westview Grand hotel, and I'm also the son of the Japanese god Hachiman. You are there as well only you are not a Colonel, you are retired and are now a Las Vagas Attorney, and the son of the Norse god Tyr, the one armed god of justice. You survived a helicopter crash btw after being shot down by an rpg. There are two other people in our little group, one Evie Cartwright, a Las Vegas detective and daughter of Heimdal, and one Lya Bach, singer, and daughter of Dyonises. Together we fought a man named Jason Lymann, who wanted to destroy the world. He even somehow managed to bring in a giant ice fortress and cast Vegas into a deep cold winter. We stormed the fortress and I took on him and his bodyguards. The fortress started disentigrating into a wormhole into the sky, and when I left, I suddenly ended up on this I guess you would call it, another world. I seriously know nothing about this place other than its Vegas. "

He holds out both wrists.

"You want to clap me in irons, so be it, you want to dissect me? Ok. But I'd rather you help me"

"Mmmm-hmm. An alternate Las Vegas. An alternate Alex North. Two women I've never heard of. And you're really the CEO of the Westview Grand?" North frowns. "See that guy in the mirror? That's Hitoshi Ryder, the CEO of the Westview Grand. He's standing next to Alex North, a colonel in the National Guard. There's no 'other' anything.

He takes out a pair of handcuffs and slaps them on your wrists.

"You get to be someone else's problem. Maybe you can call the President and call in a favor."

He leaves the room. Less than ten minutes later, Sgt. Rogers returns. "Well, well. You get your wish. Time to go for a walk."

He backs out through the door and motions for you to follow.

Hitoshi sighs. "Seargent, you and I started off on the wrong foot. My apologies, it's been a rough day. All I'd like is to check on my assistant before we leave to see if she's okay. Could that possibly be swung? After that, I meekly follow you wherever needed."

"We'll pass her room on the way out, but you won't be allowed to speak to her. Kind of defeats the purpose of quarantine," Rogers says. "Oh, and don't get cute. I'm not carrying a Taser this time, wa-karry-mass?"

"Come on, let's go see your girl."

He walks you past Mika's room. She's sitting at the desk, her head propped up on one hand, and pretending to read a magazine...

Hitoshi bows. "Dommo Arigato Seargent." He quietly follows the man down the hallway to Mika's cell.

"If there's a protocol for quarantine, there must have been other incidents," you point out. "What are the signs?"

"Fever, delirium, bulging eyes," Rogers says. "Eggheads are still trying to figure out what it is. The rumor is that it's like that Mad Cow stuff, you get it from eating infected meat, only this is worse - it spreads from blood-to-blood contact. They don't think it's airborne. Yet."

"If she doesn't come down with it, they'll probably want to fly her off to Detrick and do more tests. An antibody means we can fight it."

After you watch for a long moment, he prompts you to move on. You are taken upstairs and outside - to the other side of the checkpoint. There's a city cab waiting for you.

"Your limo is a write-off. It'll be held until you and your people figure out what you want to do with it," he says.

Your driver holds the cab door for you, then gets into the front passenger seat. He gives the destination to the driver.

It doesn't take long to reach the Westview, though it's not the resort you are familiar with. Gone are the hotel and corporate towers, the property now consisting of several glassy domes - a casino/entertainment megaplex, a hotel/convention venue, and the corporate offices.

"Nan des ...?" the doorman asks when he sees you emerge from the plebian transport. Your driver pays the fare and tips the driver well, bidding her a good day.

"Sure thing," the driver says. "You need a ride, give us a call."

It is only as the vehicle is pulling away that you realize where you've heard the driver's voice before. Evie Cartwright. You turn, but she's already pulling out into the street, leaving you with nothing but the cab number and the dispatch line.

It does not escape your notice that a security detail forms ranks about you as you enter the resort. The ambiance of the Westview is familiar and surprisingly comforting - the whirr and ding-ding-ding of slot machines, the call-outs of croupiers, and the murmur of patrons as they pursue their dreams of winning it big.

The connecting passage to the executive dome seems benign, though multiple cameras indicate it is monitored. There's an LED mounted in a piece of decorative moulding, and a faint beep tells you that there's some kind of keycard or security dongle on your person. Several feet further down the corridor, you hear a faint tick-tick-tick of a full-body scanner.

You pass through tinted glass doors into a lobby done in a mixture of classical Japanese and Tomorrowland - the 'workplace of the future' mindset.

"Good morning, Mr. Ryder," a receptionist smiles.

It takes you a moment, but you recognize Akane's voice - though the receptionist is clearly not her. A robot? If so, it's an advanced model - her body is in full view, and her movements seem fully natural.

The security detail forms an outward-facing semi-circle as you wait for the elevator, waiting for you to enter before following. You emerge into an office that is unfamiliar in style. An executive desk sits upon a broad dais, while a shorter conference table lay perpendicular to it.  
On the wall behind and above the desk, a daisho - paired katana and wakisashi - that you don't recognize. Beneath it, on a stand, is a broken katana that you _do_ recognize.

It's Honjo Masamune.

Hitoshi stares at Honjo Masamune for a second. "Arigato men, now leave me please." He says softly, but loud enough for them to hear. He waits till they are gone, then reverently picks up the broken remains of the sword.

"I don't understand what's happening. I know there must be a reason I am here but I don't know what it is."

He turns around suddenly. "Father, I call on you! Show yourself! I'm not going to play whoever ' s game this is without knowing why!"

His eyes flash in anger and his fists clench so tightly that the broken bits of sword cut into his flesh.

_"Hell if Dad came down here I'd say fuck you to him as well. At least I'm an equal opportunity asshole."_

The sound of your own words cuts deeper than the shards of Honjo Masamune.

_" I don't give one fuck about Honor. I threw Honor away the day my blood was imbued with my Fathers power. I now walk ten steps ahead of Death."_

And then, a stern voice that now seems like a distant memory. Hachiman, the Lord of Nets.  
"You have the gall to demand answers from me?" his voice echoes in your ears. "You stand where your choices have placed you. Honor is not a game."

_"Perhaps you will come to understand when you've come to terms with what you are,"_ you hear Lyman's voice chide.

"What do you want, and what do you expect of me?" Hachiman asks.

Hitoshi rounds on his father, anger flashing in his eyes. His hand raises and he opens his mouth to speak. Then, just as quickly, his hand falls, the anger dies, and he sighs.

"Your right, my actions did get me here, and those words were said, even if only in anger, they still passed my lips. But how does one fight with honor when the enemy has none?"

He drops to his knees, bowing his head.

"I don't understand, I want to be a good person and protect those I care about, but it's too easy to eschew honor when the other side has none."

He pauses. "I've been angry with you still for not saving Akane, I demanded your apology, but now I understand that it is I who should ask for your forgiveness. I understand that could you have saved her, you would have...

Can you forgive an erring child who might yet learn the proper way?"

The stern visage of a Noh mask resolves in the air before you.

"Does the eagle ask permission before it flies?" Hachiman tells you. "Honor is both a path and a choice. It is found where body and spirit walk together, not in the desire or passion that calls to one or the other."

"But you are enmeshed in a test, to see if you can be led away from Bushido," your father warns. "Who is Hitoshi Ryder? The reluctant student must, at last, choose his path. You have spoken of sacrifice, but you are conflicted; sacrifice is not the asceticism of the monk. It is a calling to a higher purpose. You are the _satetsu_ that must be refined before it can be forged into a sword.

"When you know who you are, you will find your sword."

The mask vanishes.

"Typical," chides another voice. A raspy thing of darkness and creeping shadow. Izanami. "Set the bar so high the child cannot reach it, and then berate them for failing to do so. This is not a game. Until you know what you want, you will be a pawn."

"When you know what you want, you will _be_ a sword."

A barely noticeable wisp of midnight-black smoke retreats through a black marble facade along one wall, and you instinctively understand this is where Hitoshi - this world's Hitoshi - has established his shrine to Izanami.

Gathering yourself somewhat, you sink into the executive chair at your desk. Though there are a few items awaiting your review, the desk is largely free of clutter. There is a small bronze figurine of Goro Masamune working his forge; a simple touch-panel for some kind of computer interface; and a couple of photos - what looks to be yourself and Akane at your wedding, and one of a ribbon-cutting outside of the Westview.

Among the crowd are familiar faces - your mother, Karen Ryder, standing off to one side in the shade. James Sokatsu, who you almost fail to recognize because of a neatly-trimmed moustache/goatee. But none of the Board of Directors you are familiar with.

_ That's just not fair_, you tell yourself. On one hand, Hachiman being the stern father who wasn't there, but somehow still expects you to surpass the goals he has set; on the other, Izanami, who protected the Westview for the bulk of Fimbulwinter, or whatever it was.

And then there's Akane. Alive. Your wife. Whether it's simply a bribe or something more sinister, whoever is messing with reality has struck close to home ...

Hitoshi reaches over and picks up the picture, staring at the group, and wondering how different each of them were compared to the ones he knew before. After a moment he set the picture down and stood back up.

"Now is not the time to beat yourself up about decisions made in the past, or another dimension. Now's the time to take stock and see whats changed and see what you can do to make the best of this universe. Only then can you find a solution to your problem."

He thinks as he takes a step out of his office to walk among his employees.

"Ohayo, Ryder-san," your secretary smiles as you leave. She is a human secretary, not a robotic receptionist as in the lobby. "You have lunch with James Sokatsu at the President's Club at 12:30. Your calendar is clear for the afternoon."

You nod to show you heard the reminder, and make your way through the dome, which houses not only the business end of the Westview Group, but your subsidiaries - properties acquired through means legitimate and not-so legitimate, but which are now secure under your corporate umbrella. The employees there answer to their own superiors, and know you only as a top executive. Still, there's a discernible tension in the air.

The casino floor is already bustling, but that's not unusual for Las Vegas, even with the Break. Had you not had your run-in with the Maenads, you doubt you'd even know that was an issue in this ... future? Alternate reality?

Hitoshi looks around. The tension of the employees made him uneasy and a bit sad. In his world he had made an effort to know his employees.

_"I'm going to have to change things a bit if I am going to continue to live in this world. Distance is not good for this job."_ He thinks as he walks through the floor.

He stops a passing cocktail waitress and takes a quick glance at her name tag. "Shiela, where is my mother at this hour?"

"Mr. Ryder!" the woman says, surprised. "I wouldn't know."

She gives a polite half-bow, nothing more than a nod, before excusing herself.

"Ryder-san," says a man in a dark suit. His nametag identifies him as one of your Pit Bosses, a roving supervisor responsible for a cluster of gaming tables. "Bucho-no-Ryder is in the Operations Center. Is there a problem?"

Hitoshi shakes his head. "No Michael, I just got back and was simply wondering where my moth... I mean The Director was. I thought she might be out walking the floor."

He bows. "Thank you. I shall head to operations then. Keep up the good work."

He starts walking back towards the areas behind the scenes.

"That woman was afraid of me. Is this me really that mean of a man?" He mutters to himself.

You aren't sure whether it was genuine fear or simply surprise at seeing the CEO on the casino floor. Your presence was enough to bring a senior pit boss to your side.

The Operations Center is nothing like you remember; every casino on the Strip has one, of course, watching for mischief-makers and cheats, but this is like walking into a cross between the bridge of a futuristic starship and a theater-in-the-round exhibit. The circular walls are flat video panels subdivided into the feeds from security cameras throughout the complex. Stations are devoted to everything from the casino floor to the elevators and maintenance facilities.

At the center of the room, there is a dais with its own ring of monitors and communications, with a deep executive chair at its center. The spider in its web, you think ... a moment before you realize that Karen is sitting there, in her role as head of casino operations.

"Hitoshi," she says. "Welcome home."

Hitoshi bows low.

"Good day Mother, How has the casino been running in my short absence?"

During the walk to the Operations Center, he had decided to not let on to anyone else until he knew fully how this world was different from the one he knew.

He snags an empty chair and sits down, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap.

"Oh, absolutely horrible," she says. "Card counters, cheats, and someone just ran the bank at the craps table."

She smiles. "A silly question, Hitoshi. If there's someone who wants to try their hand at taking down the Westview, I wish them luck. And a generous insurance plan."

Hitoshi smiles back at his mother.

"Well I don't think they will ever stop. However, I was talking about internally. I should have come out and phrased it better though admittedly. No, I want to know about our employees. I have decided to run a better company, no more of this sitting on the sidelines being the mysterious figure of a CEO. Our Employees are our most important asset and a happy Employee will provide better work for the Casino."

He pauses to let his words sink in.

"What I need from you is a list of all our Employees, and what part of the Casino they work in. Sadly, having a meeting of all the employees at once is counterproductive to running the Casino itself, but Meeting with two or three here and there will let me get a better feel into my company and the needs of those who perform the day to day tasks."

"The pay and benefits package at the Westview is among the top ten in America," Karen said. "And that was before the Break. We've held to a standard other corporations have quailed at. I'm not sure what more you expect to do, but I will have Melissa collate the information for you and deliver it to your office."

Hitoshi nods.

"Thank you mother. I simply wish to get to know my employees better."

He stands and puts the chair back where it belongs.

"Consider it me stepping out of the shadows and being more than the face at the top." He says smiling.

"Yes well the last CEO tried something similar and we ended up with one of the Cage Bankers stealing from the Casino. It was a nasty affair, do I'd advise you to be careful Hitoshi." He mother says, a note of disapproval in her tone. However, the note was not for him, but for the former CEO that ran the company before him.

Hitoshi steps on the dais and give his mother a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hitoshi,you know I don't like that! It undermines my authority!" His mother scolds him.

Hitoshi's laugh flows back as he leaves the room, along with his words.

"Nothing could ever undermine that, Mother."

He heads back down the hallway towards his office, but stops, instead deciding to stroll through the other domes to see what the company was all about, and maybe put a little shock into the lives of his employees by coming down off the high horse.

Learning about the Westview is an education in itself. There is the Executive Dome, of course - your offices and a private residence that is considerably more than a penthouse apartment, but a much more expansive casino environment, from low-bid tables to tournament-style poker play. There's a smoke-filled sports betting lounge, lit by the glow of monitors showing events from around the globe and the odds. There are the smaller clubs and a large event venue, as well as meeting space to rival the Las Vegas Convention Center.

The hotel is the least changed, though the rooms and overall space is much more generous. Most of the shops and restaurants look out over a promenade/park, but the premiere establishment is the Star Dome - a restaurant at the pinnacle of the building, capped with a ceiling that mirrors the sky outside, and shows a clear night sky - untainted by Vegas' sky glow - during the evening.

Through it all, you notice the extensive camera system, and you think of Karen's watchful eye looking in on everything. A spider in her web, in some ways.

You're also mindful of your full-goose turnout - an expertly-tailored business suit that weathered an attack on your car and your person, and consider 'dressing down' before your tour.

Hitoshi looks down at his clothes. "Okay, even Lya wouldn't go out looking like this." He mutters to himself.

He looks at the signs heading towards his residence with the intent to change. People pass him in the hallways, some look away, others look at him in amazement considering he is out without his guard. At least it appears so.

_"That's another thing that will need to change. The old me may have hidden behind a bodyguard, but this new one is gonna take charge and get shit done."_ He thinks with a determined look in his eyes.

There are no signs, but you are able to easily determine the location from the restricted access and private elevator. Outside your residence is a glassed-in foyer - the glass thick enough to take a bullet. Security personnel see you approach, and open the door. They bow respectfully; you catch a glimpse of an elaborate tattoo under one man's shirt cuff, and realize your security detail is made up of members of the Black Cranes.

The residence has a palm-lock, which opens to your touch.

The apartment is modern, but the design is informed by classic Japanese motifs - there are wooden beams and shoji screens, but there are also contemporary walls and amenities. There is a spacious patio and pool to the west. A zen garden, adjoined by a small dojo, is to the east.

You can hear voices from a nearby room, a young child being lessoned by a tutor. Though there are playful overtones, the conversation is respectful and on-topic, a lesson in Japanese. Moving to the door, you see the child is a young girl, perhaps 5 or 6 years old, with her black hair bound back in a ponytail. She is wearing a pink skirt, white blouse, and tennis shoes.

She notices her instructor glance in your direction, but continues reciting the sentence she was being given, with both affirmative and negative conjugation. Finished, she still does not look behind her, but sits politely at her desk, waiting for either a continuation of the lesson, or permission to turn around.

The instructor gives a small nod; the girl rises from her desk, bows formally, and then turns and runs pell-mell into you.

"Otoko oya!" she exclaims. "I knew it was you."

"Oh? And how is that?" you smile. Damn. You have a daughter.

"Because your footsteps are heavier than mine," another voice says from behind you.

You recognize the woman's voice, because you've heard it in your dreams for years. Akane.

"Are you joining us for lunch?" she asks.

"No. I have a lunch meeting with James," you say.

"So desu ka," she says. _I see._

She reaches up to your jacket lapel and feels it - or, rather, a small tear left from the morning's misadventure. She gives you a questioning look, but says nothing else as she hugs you. No worries about undermining one's authority on _this_ end, thank you very much.

Perhaps this world is fucked up, but there are some very nice things about it.

Hitoshi looks at Akane. "You have no idea how much I missed you." He smiles down at her.

Stepping back he takes in the whole view of his family. _"Was this what I got from sparing Daisuke? One simple act of Honor and Mercy changed the world."_

"Akane, I must change my suit and prepare for the meeting with James. However, I shall meet you and our lovely daughter for dinner tonight. You two pick the place."

"Uncle Mitch!" your daughter pipes up. At least it's a name you recognize - Mitch is an old friend, the sushi chef at the Westview (you'd acquired the Rising Sun before this, but didn't want to move the staff or the location).

"Asami-chan," the tutor says quietly. "We must continue."

Your daughter pouts for a moment, then brightens and heads back to the 'classroom' with youthful energy that you don't ever remember having - at least not in regards to schoolwork.

You excuse yourself to your bedroom and mull over your choice of less formal clothing.

"Good morning, Ryder-sama," intones a cultured voice over a hidden speaker. "How may I assist you?"  
You are briefly surprised, but realize that _this_ version of Hitoshi Ryder has some serious tech clout in his portfolio - an android receptionist, and now an intelligent agent ...

Hitoshi blinks for a second then recovers.

"Umm yes. Suits. I need a selection. The one I am wearing has been damaged during an excursion and I have a lunch meeting with James."

He says as he quickly gets undressed. He watches as the Closet opens and a rack of suits, ties and shoes slides out into the room.

"Black suit, Red shirt, black tie. Black Oxfords." The racks spin until his selections appear, suits on top, shirts hung neatly pressed inside them, with the ties hanging next to them. The shoes sat underneath.

He quickly grabs his selection and starts getting dressed. Suddenly he gets an idea to test these AI's.

"Also, Mika is being held by the army, Notify our people so that our lawyers can write up paperwork for her release, and they better put a lot of pressure on the army. I won't have my people experimented on. If that doesn't work, we may have to resort to other measures."

"Hai, Ryder-sama," the AI replies. "Would you like me to call Speaker Malcolm?"

You pause. Although you are aware that Bob Malcolm has enjoyed the Westview's facilities in the past - both for fundraisers and his dalliances - this Hitoshi is apparently more of a political animal than yourself, including holding aspirations to office for himself.

"Umm yes. Please do. The faster we can get Miss Hanamura out of the hands of the Military, the better."

Hitoshi replies trying to tie his Tie properly for the sixth time.

"Son of a..." He almost says "Bitch" but holds his tongue, not wishing for his daughter to hear such language.

He walks out of the bedroom, still trying to tie the tie.

"Seriously, I hate these things."

You emerge from the bedroom in fresh clothes and looking decidedly less post-apocalyptic than before. Akane sees you struggling with your tie and moves to help you.

"Twice around, over, under and through," she says teasingly, lending a hand. Her fingers move with grace, and she finishes the knot, pulling it snug to your collar.

And then she kisses you.

Your smartphone rings, and it's the AI putting you through to Congressman Bob Malcolm.

"Ryder! Getting cold feet?" he chuckles. "Not that I blame you. Air's kind of thin up here on Olympus. Takes some getting used to. But a little bird tells me you haven't filed your paperwork yet.

Shit. The sitting Speaker of the House is backing your run for Congress?

"It's up to you, of course, but the timing will never be better," he points out. "Anyway, that robot butler of yours said you needed to talk to me ... urgently. What's the deal?"

You explain your run-in with the Maenads, and ... disagreement with Colonel North.

"All right. We can smooth things over, get your assistant released if her blood panel comes back clean. But, Hitoshi-san, you're going to have to make nice with North. I know he can be a hard case, but he's got a rep as a war hero. The President is thinking of tapping him for a slot on JSOC, the Joint Special Operations Command."

Hitoshi sighs. "Yeah, you're right. I'd rather have him as a friend than as an enemy. Look, as for the Congress issue, I completely spaced on it after the neighborhood rebuild." He says running his hand through his hair, kissing his wife on the cheek afterwards.

"I don't want to be one of those congressmen that say they are going to get shit done, then sit on their asses, I WILL get what I say done even if I have to use my own money to do it. If your on board and okay with backing that kind if person, then let's do this, I'm ready to make a stand and change the world... well my piece of it anyway, and if that means with my own two hands, then so be it."

"Good man," Malcolm tells you. "Get your paperwork submitted, and we'll be off and running. Still an election to win, but it's a special election and you're running with no serious opposition, other than fringe candidates.

People are inclined to go with the favorite son.

"You won't have to worry about debates. A couple of solid commercials, some photo ops, and you'll be set. Folks don't want another weepy liberal trying to stitch things back together. They want to move the country forward.

"I'll make a couple of phone calls about your girl. Mika Hanamura, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"We'll make it happen," Malcolm assures you. He hangs up.

"Bob Malcolm?" Akane asks. "So you're going to do it?"

She hugs you.

"I'm proud of you," she says.

Hitoshi smiles.

"Well someone has to make this world a better place for you and Asami. Might as well be me if I can do it." Hitoshi says softly.

His watch beeps notifying him he has 30 minutes till the meeting.

"I should get going. I plan on walking through the casino areas before the meeting. It's all part of my plan to be more present in the lives of the employees as head of the company."

He kisses Akane and then goes over and kisses Asami on top of the head, breaking the usual tradition of being distant during her lessons.

"Bye, Papa," Asami says before returning to her classwork.

There are no other interruptions as you return to the casino dome, though the thirty minutes pass more quickly than you expect, possibly because the other you seemed to have a sense of urgency, a deliberate quality to his actions.

Still, it's enough for an initial re-assessment of things. You'd guess that your pit bosses and floor security are drawn from your Yakuza resources - they are mostly Japanese. Your dealers and croupiers are congenial, but keep the pace up.

"Excuse me," you stop one cocktail waitress. "Could you get me a San Pellegrino?"

"Certainly, S- Mr. Ryder," she smiles. She is surprised, just like the last woman, but not fearful. You watch as she delivers the drinks she had on her tray, hit several more tables for orders, and then whisk off to the bar. She's back with your mineral water in less than ten minutes.

"Do you need anything else, Sir?"

"Just a quick question, I was wondering, how is your job? Is there anything I can do or any change I can implement in order to improve working conditions for you and the other cocktail waitresses here at the Westview?" Hitoshi asks conversationally.

"The Westview has done more than any other employer in Vegas. After the Break, most casinos were cutting back on hours and wages," she tells you. "But not here. Not even for new employees like myself."

You take note of the woman's name tag - Barbara ... didn't Lya say something about a young woman with that name? Fleeing from an abusive boyfriend and ... pregnant with a Scion.

"How's your kid?" you ask on a long shot.

"Petey? He's doing great, thank you!" she beams. "Like I said, if it weren't for the Westview, I'd be stuck with that mot- er ... my ex. I know it may sound like I'm asking for more, but there are people on staff who ... well, they're stuck, left high and dry because the university crashed. Some kind of distance learning thing, or a path upward."

Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. "Really? Allright, heres what I want you to do. I have a meeting in a few minutes, but it shouldn't last more than an hour. I'm giving you permission to gather these people in one point five hours and bring them, all of them to my office. I want to talk to all of you. I won't let any of my employees go without the education they have struggled for, just because the university fails them. I will find a way to get you all back on track."

"We're scattered across several shifts," Barbara says. "I have a daytime slot so I can leave Peter with a nanny. But I'll see who is here. Thank you, again. I'd better get back to work."

She bustles off.

You meet James Sokatsu at the Star Dome and are shown to a private table. Two waiters are tasked solely to your table - something that isn't all that unusual at five-star venues. Both the chef and the front-of-house staff will pull out the stops for an important food writer like Ruth Reichel or another restaurateur.

"Heard you had some excitement coming back from the development," Sokatsu says. "I can let some of the Invisible Hand off their leash, if you'd like. The Guard is capable, but - they're the Guard. They have rules, and uniforms, and identifiable vehicles. We don't."

The reference to what was, in your own reality, Toshiro Kimura's clan is surprising. They still exist, in some form, though since the original was beholden to Izanami, you find it hard to believe that would have changed.

"The Guard is holding Mika for blood tests - one of the Maenads drew blood, so they're worried she might have some icky, contagious disease," you relate. "I've spoken to Bob Malcolm, called in a favor - he'll put the screws on Colonel North to get her released. And, it's official - I'm running for Congress."

"That will be fun," Sokatsu smiles. "Congressman Malcolm is an accomplished political player, but you and I do things a little differently, neh?"

Hitoshi smiles. "You and I get things done, James. We do what we must to provide for those we watch over."

He takes a drink of his wine and a bite of his lunch.

"So, whats on the agenda today? My apologies, but in the rush and the attack on my person and Mika, I am afraid I have had a slight memory lapse. I think I'm getting old."

He grins at the joke.

"Nobu Muramasa continues to be a problem," James says. "He doesn't like the clans being brought together under unified leadership - yours - and is encouraging others to rebel while keeping his own hands clean. I understand Mika is his sister, but at some point, we're going to have to play hardball with the asshole. And I mean, hardball, not _yubitsume_ or administrative punishment."

"Of course, this kind of nonsense is ruffling feathers in the National Police Bureau. If _we_ don't take care of Muramasa, _they_ will. And some of our people will be caught up in the mess."

Hitoshi folds hid hands. "Hmm, you are correct that he's become a problem, and eventually will need to be dealt with... As I just said though, that's an eventually. I'm thinking we slowly pull our people away one by one, and then when they are safe and have no involvement to be implicated of we give the NPB what they want."

He presses his lips into a thin line while he thinks, then after a moment grins.

"But that's a bit down the road. Right now I have the company, and my family to look after, as well as the situation with Mika, but hopefully that will be resolved soon."

Eating a bite of the Salmon fillet that he ordered he shakes his head.

"Man, they really did well on this fish." He sets his fork down and gestures to James.

"I'm tired of shop talk right now. Tell me, what's new in your world?"

"There are those within the Black Lightning clan who see the wisdom of our path. I will see to it they are ... appraised of the situation. The NPB will not want to get into a fight, however. Isao Murmasa structured them like one trains a vicious dog," James says. "We will select a handful of their top people, including Nobu, to make an example of. If the rest of the clan does not wish to cooperate, then more direct measures will be required. I can handle that, as usual."

James takes a couple of bites of his steak. It is on the rare side.

"What is new in my world? Your portfolio remains robust, thanks to sound financial advice," he chuckles. "There are CEOs who didn't do half as well as you did. Which is fine, actually. Gets rid of some of the deadwood and makes room for men and women with vision. I don't want my goddaughter to grow up with the same old thing; I want her to be able to claim her heritage and do whatever she damn well wants to."

Hitoshi chuckles. "She will for now, but eventually she will need to learn responsibility and that life is not all fun and games."

He finishes off his glass of wine. "But until then, let her be the child she is well into her teens, growing up can wait a while."

He sets the empty glass down and waves away the waiter who comes to refill it. Then he finishes off his meal.

Once done, he looks back up. "Well James, if that's all we need to talk about, I have a meeting with some employees."

"Is there a problem with our people?" he asks quietly, underscoring that he is the de-facto enforcer for the Cranes. "I would hate to think things are getting out of hand because I am spending time in Japan."

Hitoshi shakes his head and holds up a hand.

"No, no, nothing like that. Some of our non-shadow employees had their further education canceled on them during the break. Apparently the university went under and they were left high and dry. I'm looking into ways that Westview could allow them to continue their educations."

"A generous gesture," James smiles. "One that works to your benefit and maintains a favorable public facade. What will you do when the rest of America expects the same from Congressman Ryder? Not to mention which, I suspect Speaker Malcolm wants the Oyabun - even if he doesn't realize that's what he's looking for - rather than a samurai mired in admirable, but outdated mores."

Hitoshi spreads his hands. "Look at sweden, and other countries. They have free, or duscounted education. It's time the United States steps up in that area. However, admittedly, i was only doing it for the benefit of my employees and their children, but you mentioned it, so it's a good campaign thing to stand on."

He smiles.

"The only reason the deplorable state of American education exists is because those in charge profit from it," James says. "Much in the way politicians argue about minimum wage whilst ignoring the metric of 'poverty level' - something that, once you fall below it, you become invisible to those who matter."

"Well if I'm going to run, I am sticking by what I say. First I'm starting here at home, then expand outwards with changes for the people." Hitoshi replies as he wipes his mouth with the napkin.

He stands and holds out a hand. "Well James, keep up the good work on both ends. I have to jet back to the office. Work never seems to stop."

James takes care of the tip - leaving a generous amount - and bids you farewell.

"I'll be in town for another day or two. You know how to find me if you need me."

Mindful of your pending conference call with Toshiro Kimura, you make your way to the staff 'break area' - a lounge that is more than simply table, chairs, and poorly-filled vending machines. Barbara Griffin has gathered a dozen of her co-workers.  
"A few people might walk in partway, we're almost on shift change," she says. "It was hard enough holding down a job and trying to squeeze in a class or two at the University. And, with the Break, a physical campus isn't practical - it requires power, resources, security. Are you talking about a distance learning set-up?"

*It is not necessary that you be familiar with the terms and concepts of distance learning or online education. Assure them their educational needs can be met without costing them on the job front, and you're gold.

Hitoshi pulls up a chair and flipping it backwards, sits down. "My reply to that is, what works best for all of you? I believe education is important, and if my employees are not getting the education they want then I need to solve that problem. If distance learning is the solution you all want then, that's what I'm going to go for. However, if I need to find a way to give you all a brick and mortar place then I will do that instead."

He stands again and walking over to the coke machine, swipes his card and pulls out a mountain dew. Cracking the seal he takes a long drink.

"If you all are committed to continuing or beginning your education, then I'm committed to making sure you get it. If it's distance, then i'll get you laptops, or setup a computer lab here in one of the empty rooms and give you all paid time off for those class times when you need to take them within reason in either of the two cases, However..."

He points the bottle at the gathered assembly of people.

"You have to stick with it and earn the grade, no quitting. If you quit, I'll make you pay the company back a little each time, just like any student loan the government would give."

He spreads his hands. "The choice is your folks. I'm here and willing to support my employees... you just have to speak up."

He folds his hands in front of himself and leans against the wall.

"That ... that sounds great," one employee says. "A space here with computers, so we're not floundering around with old laptops?"

"You might need to offer a daycare option for single mothers," Barbara Griffin says. "We can't be away from our families for both work and school."

"How fast are we looking at this? Most distance learning setups are already booking for their fall classes," another employee asks.

Hitoshi pushes off the wall and walks across the room.

"Alright, I will get on that immediately. By the end of the day we will have a room. By the end of tomorrow, computers will be setup and they can run off the company's network lines. I should be able to have a daycare option by the end of the week if not sooner. In two days though, you all should be able to register for your fall classes."

He smiles. "Now, I need to get going so that I can get the ball rolling on this. Those of you getting off work, have a good rest of your day. Those of you coming on, remember to do your best..."

He turns to leave and stops. "Oh, and smile." He throws back over his shoulder with a grin.

"Goddamn, Barb, did you put happy pills in Ryder's corn flakes?" asked one employee after Hitoshi was down the hall and out of earshot.

"_He_ approached me, actually," said Barbara. "Asked how my kid was doing, and if there was anything he could do to help."

"I've been working here for four years, and he's always been behind a wall of bodyguards, or there's Sokatsu, or one of the pit bosses," said another worker. "I'll take it."

"Maybe it's his running for Congress. Can't win over the people if your employees are suffering."

You sit down at your desk. Toshiro Kimura calls precisely on time. It is a video call. You are surprised to see a vital and energetic executive, not some feeble husk whose life-force had been expended in service to Izanami.

"Good Morning, Toshiro. You are looking well," you greet him.

"As are you, Ryder-sama," he smiles. "Married life suits you. How is my favorite niece?"

"Growing by leaps and bounds," you smile. "Anything to report?"

"Sokatsu-san will have told you about Nobu Muramasa," Kimura says. "We have people in position to effect his ... retirement from the field. You need but give the word."

Realizing that Kimura was also possibly part of his underworld empire, Hitoshi shakes his head and folds his hands on his desk. "No, I don't think it's needed... yet."

He leans back in his chair. "Beyond Muramasa, has anything else gone on recently that I should know about, What are our assets looking like?"

"Our house is in good financial health," Kimura smiles. "Sokatsu-san is a shrewd investment advisor and helped identify where our assets were exposed to undue risk."

"The Invisible Hand prospers. The goddess is clearly pleased with your stewardship, Ryder-sama."


	38. The Vantage Advantage

"How does this look on the other end? Do we just appear out of nowhere? We're not going to beam down or appear in a blast of light from the sky, are we?" Alex asked.

"Your arrival should be unremarkable," Heimdall answers. "None of you possess the power to manifest as a divine avatar ... yet. Still, it's best to look before crossing the threshold."

"Well unless some squatters took over my place, the apartment should be clear," Lya offers. "And if it isn't, I wouldn't mind scaring the shit out of them for invading my space."

While Alex and Lya ask a few, final questions of Heimdall before departing, Evie makes her way back to the Vantage. Standing before it, she lets herself fall into the same open state she was in when she saw Fenris and the Senator. Quietly, she asks, "Justin Holliwell, where are you right now?"

The magic underlying the Vantage locks in on your target. It is early morning, before dawn by the look of the sky. Distant, snow-covered mountains are limned by the rising sun. That would place Holliwell somewhere up by Lake Flathead, Montana. A large wilderness area, with remote cabins and rentals, and glaciers/mountains to the north.

_Holliwell rises. He is wearing the same business garb as before, his shirt a touch more rumpled. There's stubble on his face, and dark circles under his eyes, but a look of determination on his face._

_He moves quietly to the door, listening. He slips the latch, peeks out into the hall. This is no remote cabin, it's a lodge. Perhaps his own property. He examines a cabinet in the dining room - it's empty - and then rummages through the drawers. You see his shoulders sag somewhat. Apparently, he'd been hoping to find something. A rifle. A pistol. Something. He didn't trust his captors._

_He makes his way to the door and slips out into the cold morning light. Glancing about, he jogs down the road leading ... where? The nearest small town? A highway or gas station where he can flag someone down for help?_

_And then there's the howl of a wolf. No, several wolves. The alarm on Holliwell's face says it all - that's not normal. He picks up the pace, but glances over his shoulder tell you he is fearful for his life._

_He breaks into a run. He departs from the road, where he is in the open, and is crashing through the trees and brush, perhaps a straight-line route to his intended destination._

_And is surrounded by the source of the howling. Wolves, closing in on him, acting entirely out of their normal habits. Holliwell spins, and slams into a large man standing behind him. The man is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He seems to be barefoot, and is breathing heavily._

_"Good morning, Senator," he says. It is the gravelly, low voice of his captor. "Going somewhere?"  
_

* * *

"I should go to my office, then. Grab something normal to wear, hit the stores. We can meet up at ... where, Soul Food? The Dive?" Alex asks.

"Oh man... feels like ages since I've had pie," Lya responds. "Soul Food sounds _awesome._ We'll head to my place first and hopefully get Rikke situated with Arky before picking up some clothes of our own."

She shakes the pouch of gold pieces at her belt. "I wonder how much we can get for these... because we're going to have to play dress-up big time before they even consider letting us into that boardroom at the Grandview."

"Then, Rikke, food, and shopping," Alex says. "I can foot the bill on clothes. I may not have godly powers, but I have a good credit rating."

"Says the man who defied Odin and let the Mimir finally achieve peace," Klepto mutters as she rolls her eyes.

"Who would be the God of Credit, anyway?" Toxic jokes. "Indebticus?"

Lya snorts and then winks at Alex. "Thanks, Alex... we could use some good tips when it comes to suits."

Evie frowns. 'Near Flathead' is still a big area for anyone to try and search, especially if Fenris decides to move Holliwell. But, at least she has the coordinates for where he is right now, and that's the best she can do. (She's just going to ignore the possibility of him outright killing the senator, for the moment.)

_Alright, then. Now that I know where you are, Mr. Possibly-Late-Holliwell, let's see what your replacement is up to._

She refocuses the Vantage, trying to find out where the doppelganger may be and what he is up to.

Evie starts to redirect the Vantage but quickly changes her mind. She drops out of her trance-like state and calls out, "Guys! Holliwell just now tried to escape. He's surrounded by wolves and one of Fenris' gang. I know exactly where he is. If we go, we might be able to save him."

"I don't know what the enemy plans, at this point. Maybe take him back to his room, maybe kill him?"

"If he was kidnapped, then I imagine they want to keep him alive," Lya theorizes. "You never know what might come up for the doppelganger where they'll need more information from him."

She scratches her head. "I don't know... do we launch an attack now, or head back to Vegas first and regroup, hoping that they need to keep the senator alive?"

Evie nods, "If he's still alive, at this point, then I think you are right and there is a good chance that they will keep him that way. But, if he keeps annoying his captors by not being complacent, they might get fed up. Who knows?"

Turning to Heimdall, Evie asks, "If I were to go with them to rescue Holliwell, would I be able to come back here afterward?"

"It's a standard technique for interrogation. Give the subject some hope, then dash it, hard. Show the prisoner that there are no options for escape," Alex said. "I didn't go through SERE. Well, not the course. I lived the real thing, minus getting captured."

"Going back to Vegas would give us an idea of what's going on," Alex said. "There must be something happening that Loki and Fenris want to exploit, circumstances that someone in Holliwell's position can make or break. Holliwell is simply in the wrong place at the right time - a politician who is on hiatus and in a remote location."

Heimdall nods to his daughter. "In this instance, yes. Call my name, and I will open the way."

"Like Ellison with those missile codes," Lya nods in agreement. "He must be on a committee or something to warrant this kind of move. It can't just be because he's a decidedly moderate politician."

"It's just like MOM in criminal investigations - means, opportunity, and motive. Intelligence objectives tend to be about something you are - an important piece in the chain of command; something you possess - a fingerprint or retinal pattern; or something you know - a password or activation code," Alex explained.* "Maybe he's on an important committee, or favored to get a Cabinet appointment, even SecDef."

"Well, let's see. Barring any super-secret stuff, any committee that he's on should be public knowledge," Evie says. "Why don't you guys see what you can dredge up on the net and I'll pop over to see what the doppelganger is doing...if I can." She nods back towards the Vantage.

* * *

_"I don't see why you don't have Hati or Skoll rip open Holliwell's senatorial head and do some redecorating," Loki was saying. He wasn't there, of course - Laufeyson and Fenris were allies of convenience, it seemed, despite legend having Fenris descended from Loki. Or the Wolf simply knew better than to place unconditional trust in his sire._

_Fenris looked at the screen. "Because this is a rush job. Another rush job, thanks to your failure to procure launch codes from Colonel Ellison. Only you could mass an army of Einjehar and piss it away."_  
_"Without me, you would not have the knowledge of other realities from which to choose our tools," Loki said disdainfully._

_"I have yet to see the advantage."_

_"Do you not? I have shown you a future where the All-Father lies dead and you are not a trophy rug in Vidar's mead hall," Loki sneered._

_"Yes, I can draw pretty pictures, too. Should I fetch you a box of crayons?" Fenris snapped._

_"You need me."_

_"That is an interesting notion, one which my conversations with Senator Holliwell are giving me second thoughts about," Fenris said, coolly. "The terms 'cleaning house' and 'political deadwood' are quite interesting. Becoming the Senator will be amusing. I'll be able to indulge my feral instincts and call it business."_

_Fuck me_, Evie draws in a sharp breath, dropping out of the vision. She runs a hand over her face worriedly as she moves back to stand before the others.

"Okay, shit's getting real. It's not just any doppelganger taking Holliwell's place. It's Fenris himself," she says, her voice grim.

"But, there is some good...ish news. Loki and Fenris aren't exactly getting along, either. There's tension between them. Fenris blames Loki for losing the launch codes and Loki is reasserting the fact that Fenris needs him to see the other realities. Fenris, though...he's starting to have doubts about that. It might be something that we can use," Evie offers.

"I don't know about Odin dead at his feet, but we might be able to show Loki a future where Ragnarok never happens and everyone is free from their fate," Lya replies. "That has to count for _something_ with him. At the very least, if we can keep sowing the seeds of doubt in their little cabal, maybe we can get them to turn on each other or something."

She turns to Alex with a thought. "Did you _see_ Fenris in your vision? Would you know if he looked like Holliwell when you supposedly kill him?"

She gnaws at her lip in worry. "I saw the death of an important political figure lighting the match to World War III... I hope to all that is holy that it wasn't Holliwell or Fenris. What good is stopping Ragnarok if we can't stop ourselves from destroying each other anyway?"

"No, I didn't have the impression that it was Senator Holliwell," Alex said. "It felt ... I felt, I _knew,_ somehow, that it was Fenris. And he recognized me."

"That's it, of course. It doesn't matter who the face belongs to, someone in the upcoming drama won't be who they appear to be. Too bad my powers don't run in that direction."

Evie nods, "Then I'm going to leave Holliwell and planning to you. I'm going back to the Vantage to not look for cats. I have no idea how long I will be under...if it will be seconds or days. So...yeah. I'll catch up with you either way."

Before she leaves, she quickly types Holliwell's coordinates into a text and zips it off to Alex and Lya's phones so they have that information.

Once again, Evie makes her way to the Vantage. The notion of looking in on yourself is odd, to say the least. But your professional instincts take over, reminding you that you don't solve cases by overlooking things. The Vantage swirls and reforms to your will ...

_ "Gimme a positon on Twelve!" Evie calls out._

_ "Crossing over I-15," comes the answer. "They're at the checkpoint."_

_ Other numbers and unit designations are tossed about. You are seeing things from your own perspective. It's a repurposed garage, part of a fleet of yellow cabs parked below. An electronic tally board shows the GPS beacons of units out on the street._

_ It's chillingly familiar, and you realize it's all police department surplus - perhaps a bit battered, but the cabs include several Ford Crown Victorias with push bumpers on them. No. It's more than that, you realize after another moment or two. There are familiar faces on the floor, faces from the LVPD that you know. And yet, it's more. There's a tension to the atmosphere, a ready-for-trouble sensibility familiar from past protests and conflicts. The police department didn't disband. It didn't go away. It's still here, and you're still a part of its new incarnation._

_ "... all I know is that the Guard is up to something," one driver is saying. "They've got roving patrols up, and that's never good."_

_ "Well, they just bumped Colonel North up to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, so maybe we'll be rid of him," counters another driver. "Fucking war hero."_

_ "Hey, more than a few of us are veterans," came the objection. "I think the problem is that North believes his own press."_  
_ Laughter._

_ "Yo, Cartwright, are we still on for the supply run?"_

_ "Yes, we are," you hear your own voice reply. "Folks on the other side need our help. Be sure to sweep the vehicles, make sure the Guard didn't slip a tracker on anything."_

_ "On it, Chief."_

_ "Does the Guard know we're getting a supply truck?" Lya asked._

_ "Yes," Leucosia smiled. "Arky is arranging the ambush."_

_ "And our other surprise?"_

_ "Ready. They'll be forced to ground well short of Nellis. We're figuring the Convention Center or the Country Club, unless we hurt them so badly they have to ground or crash. Parthenope wants to know if we can get more."_

_ "I'll talk to Rusty," Lya smiles._

_ "Do you think Alex will be there?" Leucosia said, making a mocking moon-eyed expression. "I owe him for killing Phoebe. I even have a special arrow, just for him."_

_ "I miss her too."_

_ "Blood for blood," Leucosis says. "There will be a reckoning."_

**2**She stands there for a second, considering how, exactly, to go about this search. Does she _need_ to be methodical, the way she would if sifting through facts back at her desk, chasing tidbits that lead her to the truth? Or, can she just ask the Vantage to show her what she wants and it will because she knows what she is looking for. The only reason the others haven't seen it is because they weren't looking.

_Well, let's try the fast way, first,_ she thinks to herself. _Show me the reality where Odin and Loki do not consult Mimir._

She figures that if that shows and is not what she seeks, she can ask about a reality where Mimir does not exist, next.

"These days I'd be more surprised if I met someone who _was_ what they appeared to be," Lya chuckled dryly. "Evie is going to keep looking, so we'll stick to the plan of getting situated and meeting at the Soul Food Cafe then." She reaches out to shake Alex's hand before preparing to step out onto the Bifrost Bridge. "See you soon!"

_At a fundamental level, it's not whether Odin or Loki consult their respective oracles. It's whether they surrender their choices to such devices and artifice. It's giving up an essential human gift: free will - the ability to choose for good or ill, and resigning oneself to an inescapable, pre-ordained future. That because one fails once, one will always fail, that failure is a grim destiny that you cannot escape._

_"What will I see?" asks Odin._

_"Your fate," Mimir says. "As your steps have led you thus."_

_"Then let it be revealed," Odin breathes. He clenches his fists, steeling himself against anticipated pain._

_"Nay, Borsson, I am no savage. Such is not my craft," Mimir says. "I gain nothing through your pain. Enter the Well, and see. A part of you will remain behind, to remind you of your vision, and to guide others who will follow."_

Whoa. Does that mean the act of sacrificing his eye literally blinded Odin to an outcome that didn't involve Ragnarok? And that everyone else, until Lya - a seer with her own gift of prophecy - was able to separate doomsaying from destiny?

_I can see clearly now ..._ the old Johnny Nash tune dances through your thoughts. _Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind ..._

But it isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Not being resigned to Ragnarok doesn't mean there won't be a culmination of strife that has mankind standing on the brink of oblivion before the better angels of his nature kick in and step back.

Nor can you go back in time and undo Odin's seeing.

You suddenly understand that whatever reckoning comes to pass, it won't pitch the universe off the edge, but be an affirmation. A choice to step forward and ascend. And that no matter what the gods or their offspring do, it will be a mortal, in a human moment, making the choice that sets the future in motion.

_So, destruction may come, but it will not be the end, not as Odin, Loki and all the rest think,_ she mulls over what she has seen. A small smile graces her lips, _It's good that a human will choose. Free will is, indeed, our gift._

_Now, I understand Odin's side of things. Let's see if I can glean a bit more about Loki,_ she thinks as she turns the Vantage upon her uncle and his encounter with Mimir.

_I think that a little understanding will go a long ways towards maybe setting things as they should be..._

"_I should burn down that hovel and the woods in which it lay," Loki sneers to himself. "Time to stir the pot ..."_

_Loki's features shimmer and change, resolving into the face of Bob Malcolm. He picks up a cell phone and dials a number._

_"Colonel North, please," he says. "Yes. Tell him it's Congressman Malcolm. I'll wait." The ersatz Congressman hums a patriotic tune while he's on hold. "Colonel? Bob Malcolm," he says. "I understand you have a Mika Hanamura in medical quarantine. That's right, Ryder's girl."_

_Loki rolls his eyes as he takes a pen and conducts an unheard orchestra. "Of course I want her released," he smiled. "It's very simple. I need Ryder to do something, and this is a down-payment. It's also a reminder to you that you owe me more than a few favors, such as hiding the fact that you're one of 'them,' what do you call it? A Scion."_

_There's a brief pause._

_"Exactly. I'm glad you understand the dynamics of our relationship. Hanamura, released. Make it happen."_

_He hangs up the phone. He speaks to someone off to the side, someone you cannot see, at first._

_"Leverage. It's good to be king," he smiles._

_"You have arranged an interesting dance," the other person says. A woman, thought it sounds like she's a dispatcher with a three pack-a-day habit._

_"I am grateful for your ... assistance," Loki says._

_"We all have our roles to play," the woman says. She comes into view, a ... thing ... in a dark kimono patterned with cranes. Her face is withered and skeletal, and was that a maggot writhing inside her smiling mouth? But then her visage undergoes a similar transformation, and you are looking at a woman in stylish business attire. Karen Ryder. Hitoshi's mother… and a player in the game._

_Welp. Of course, that's the way it is. Why wouldn't it be?_ Evie thinks to herself in exasperation as she briefly pulls her consciousness back to the Vantage,

She thinks for a second, her hand straying down to her phone. _It couldn't be that easy...could it? Certainly, I wouldn't be able to contact Hitoshi from my reality but, from here?_

_Won't find out until I try,_ she begins dialing Hitoshi's number, not at all sure what to expect.

Crossing your fingers, you dial Hitoshi's number.

It rings.

"Ryder Household. This is Asami, how may I help you?" answers a voice you did not expect. It sounds like a young girl.

Evie blinks in surprise, but quickly recovers. _Asami. That must be the daughter that I saw when Heimdall showed us Izanami interfering._

"May I speak to Mr. Hitoshi Ryder, please?" Evie asks in her most professional voice. She figures she can make up something about being from a bank or something if Asami asks who is calling but, for now, she'll not offer up that information.

The young girl demonstrates incredible poise. "Just a moment, please."

There's a thunk as the phone is set down on the desk, and you hear footsteps recede, the buzz of conversation, and someone else coming to the phone.

"Hello? I apologize, that was my daughter who answered," says an adult woman. The girl's mother, then. And hadn't Hitoshi explained that he'd failed to save the woman? That's one hell of a bribe. Give him his heart's desire, and put him on the hook.

"I was trying to reach Hitoshi Ryder," you repeat.

"May I ask who is calling?" she says.

Since the group had exchanged numbers, you're certain the Caller ID would be providing the information - and that any misrepresentation would be quickly caught out.

"Evie Cartwright," you say, which is the bare minimum. It's not like your photo has you in uniform or flashing a badge. You could be anyone.

"Is this a business matter?" she asks. Something in her tone tells you the question carries more meaning than it appears to.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm with the bank. I just need his okay to handle some transactions," Evie's not sure what the double-meaning is to "business" but she's certain she doesn't want to seem to be mixed up in that.

She's not sure exactly how money is handled at a casino but...hopefully, this excuse will be enough. Surely there are things that only the CEO could sign off on...

"I see. He'll be with you in just a moment," she says. There is nothing in her tone to suggest she is running interference or looking to trace the call.

Come to think of it, what would a trace look like? You're fairly certain the computers would identify the cell towers, but there's got to be some ... leap where the trace would just dead-end, because the computers aren't going to spit out 'Heimdall's House, Bifrost, Asgard' as an address.

A moment later, you hear Hitoshi's voice among the indistinct buzz of conversation.

"Evie?" he asks.

"Hitoshi! Can you speak freely?" While Evie isn't concerned about a trace, she is concerned about a tap. She wouldn't put it past Loki to have finangled a way to have Hitoshi monitored.

Hitoshi raises hid eyebrows, then walks into his private study and closes the door. He looks at the phone for a moment trying to figure out what to say. "Where in the hell are you?Lya and the others, did everyone make it out of the Castle?"

"Long story. But, yeah...we made it out. I'm currently on the Bifrost doing some recon for the group. Alex and Lya have gone back to our Vegas...not yours," Evie says.

"I'm going to be _persona non grata_ here, soon, so I need to make this fast. Loki is impersonating Malcolm in your reality. He just got off the phone with your reality's Alex to get someone out of holding for you. Alex is a Scion, but Loki is taking steps to hide that. I don't know why Alex is hiding it but...apparently, Alex is in Loki's pocket. Loki is specifically trying to manipulate you into doing something for him as Malcolm. I don't know what, but there it is."

Evie rubs her hand across her forehead, not wanting to go on. Hitoshi is not going to like this next part, not one bit but...he needs to know in order to make decisions, "Another player is impersonating your mother. I'm not familiar with her, but she wears a kimono and looks..unpleasant. Skeletal, almost. A maggot for a tongue? She was talking to Loki about the parts they all have to play."

"And, uhhh...this same person, the woman...she's controlling your wife and child in that reality. I..." Evie stops and heaves a sigh. "I don't know if they are real and she is manipulating them to control you or if they are purely puppets. All I know is that I've seen her in the shadows, and her tendrils were all over them."

Hitoshi frowns and sits down on the edge of the desk in his study.

"I... see... Well I'm running for congress, and it's all Bob Malcom's idea, at least thats the feeling I get."

He pauses.

"Look, I don't know if this room ha s bug or not, or even if this phone is bugged. If there is a bug then it's too late, we crossed that line as soon as you called. Just so you know, Honjo Masamune is broken, and I'm not one hundred percent sure of my abilities. Your sister here is a cab driver, and good old Alex is still in the military. I haven't seen Lya yet, but I think she may be an eco-terrorist. There's actual Maenads running about in unsecured areas of the city, and... Well that could just be me being paranoid."

He sighs. "I'm not sure what's real here. If you and the gang can get here, do so. If you can't, I'll do my best with what I have, but the only thing I can promise is I'll do what I have to stop Ragnarok in this reality."

"Hopefully, it's not bugged. Even if it is, we've just thrown their plans all astray because you know," Evie sighs.

"We spoke to Mimir, the Norse prophet. And Lya has been having visions of you. Everything seems to point towards an assassination that will set off WWIII. Maybe the president? I don't know, but you feature prominently in the politics of it all," Evie pauses and sighs.

"I'm sorry, Hitoshi. I really am. I wish I had better news," she glances over her shoulder, starting to wonder when Odin is going to show up.

"I don't know that we can get to your reality now that Lya and Alex are in our old one. Fenris is taking the place of a politician, there. Shit's getting crazy everywhere," she says. "Do you have any questions while I still have a little time?"

"Can... can you tell if my family is real or not? I mean are they human, or just puppets of this woman." His voice goes soft, and his heart aches as he thinks that Akane and Asami could be just puppet beings. He also thinks he knows who the puppet master could be, and he hopes he's wrong.

"Why would she be working with Lymann? " He thinks to himself.

"I'm not sure," Evie confesses. "What I see is like watching a TV. I see what is happening and it's up to me to interpret that. I suppose I could look to see when they were created. If they are human, I'll get to see some folks knockin' heels. If they aren't, then...I guess I'll see magic or...something. Give me a few minutes and I'll try that. I'll call you right back."

Evie hangs up and goes back to the Vantage. _Please, please let them be human...for Hitoshi_ she thinks before she asks the Vantage to show her both Akane and Asami's creation.

You return to the Vantage, focusing your will upon the moment in question, but it remains elusive. Intangible, because the moment itself has passed. You give a short, stifled snarl of frustration.

"Ah. I know that sound well," Heimdall says from behind your right shoulder. "You are seeking that which has already taken place, to better understand the present. While the Vantage is not a ... time machine, there are few who are better suited to this task than a police detective who unravels the past by discerning what _is._"

Of course. It's just like a crime scene. The moment is passed, but there will be evidence in its wake. Footprints, fingerprints, hair, fibers, fluids, ballistics ...

... and the answer to how one gets a good man, a smart man, to do something bad. You hold something over his head, something he values more than his own safety and well-being: a wife - a woman he loved, and whom he'd failed to protect before - and a daughter, a blessing that had come out of the darkness of the past.

"... and my wife, Akane," Hitoshi is saying.

The restaurant is quiet. The reason becomes apparent as you realize the rest of the dining room is empty, and government types are standing watch. You've seen that kind of security, of course - Secret Service grade protection for heads of state. Malcolm? No, it's not Malcolm that's sitting at the table, but a familiar, lean and feral face. Fenris.

"I didn't know you were married," Fenris smiles.

You're not sure if that's a social courtesy, or if it's another failure by Loki to keep the Wolf informed.  
"And my daughter, Asami," Hitoshi continues. "Asami, this is the President, Justin Holliwell."

"Good evening, Mr. President," Asami says.

"What an adorable little girl," Fenris says.

Asami pouts. "I'm a big girl."

"Of course. My mistake," Fenris says. "I'll be frank, Ryder. I'm doing some reorganizing at the top. Several members of my administration are going to be stepping down. Before the midterms. There are some policy changes I want to implement, and they're dragging their heels and giving me excuses as to why it can't be done."

"How can I be of assistance, Mr. President?" Hitoshi asks.

"Bob Malcolm tells me you're a shoe in for the junior seat," Fenris/Holliwell says. "That's good. Because I'm going to kick you upstairs the moment the ballots are counted. I want you to be my SecDef."

_Secretary of Defense?_

Evie pulls her consciousness back to herself and ponders what she saw. At first blush, it seems that Asami and Akane must be real. Fenris seemed to genuinely not be aware of Hitoshi's family and one would think that if they were fabricated, that fact would've passed along the enemy ranks. Of course, Loki isn't exactly a team player, either...

Evie assumes that it is well within a god's power to imprint the memory of a family existing within the minds of mortals. Heimdall had told her that her own mother would not remember him. Surely gods can do the opposite, too? The only reason that they would fabricate a family is if they knew that this Hitoshi isn't Yakuza Hitoshi. Even for a god, she imagines that imprinting so many people would be a hassle, at the very least. So, the real question is, do they know?

Probably not. Everything would've had to be in place the exact moment that he arrived in that reality. The puppets would need to be made and people imprinted in that instant after Yakuza Hitoshi...faded? disappeared? was eaten by Casino Hitoshi? Seems like a lot of planning for something that they probably had no idea was going to happen. Loki had no clue that they would destroy the castle and that is when Hitoshi disappeared. No, the whole thing would've caught them by surprise.

Besides, real, living people offer far more incentive to do as they say. There's always the chance that am imprint could fail to adhere properly and be overcome. If you saw made love to your wife, saw your child born...those offer far greater and more permanent leverage.

Evie gives it a few minutes before calling Hitoshi back. The timing of things in Midgard versus Asgard seems off and she doesn't want to call in the middle of that particular meeting.

* * *

(Meanwhile...)

_Although this has already happened from Hitoshi's perspective ..._

The searchlight played across the street strewn with rubble. Destroyed buildings, abandoned and wrecked vehicles, burnt garbage. But even with the arc light, there were shadows. Too many shadows. Guardsmen standing watch by the I-15 Break had learned not to underestimate them. A dilapidated panel van made its way down the street. It was hard to tell if it was an old parcel delivery vehicle or just brown with rust. A faded logo made it out as belonging to Henderson Salvage &amp; Storage, a junk yard well behind the line.

"Command, Parker," said the sentry. "Got some scavengers crossing the line, looks like."

"Parker, Command. Coming or going?"

"Going. Bust 'em for smuggling?"

"Does it look like we need to?"

"Nah, they're just slinking back to the- holy shit! Red One! Red One! We are under atta-"

The roof of the van had popped open, and a Maenad holding a makeshift flamethrower sprayed the line, engulfing the Guardsman who had been watching them. But it hadn't been just flame - it had been a burst of flame igniting a stream of Greek fire. An ululating cry cut through the night. More Guardsmen responded, coming to the wall with shields and automatic rifles, opening fire on the panel van. Instead of flying open, the rear doors dropped like a landing ramp, revealing two ranks of archers. Arrows flew, sailing out of the blackness to skewer Guardsmen.

"Take out that van!" one officer shouted.

The Guardsmen directed their fire, but the back of the van was empty. The Maenads had fired and scattered, moving to secondary positions where they were joined by other archers, and several more volleys cut through the night.

"Lights full!" came an order over the loudspeakers, and a battery of arc lights cut through the darkness with blinding power. Caught in the open, the Maenads began taking casualties. And then there was another figure atop the van, a man with shoulder-length blonde hair and a bronzed physique. He spread his arms wide, and there was a flash ...

... the Maenads made quick work of the Guardsmen, scaling the walls and dispatching the poor, disoriented bastards. Weapons and ammo were salvaged and pass back along the line. Trophies, mostly dog tags, were claimed.

The doors on either side of the bulwark were thrown open.

"Bring it on through!" Lya's voice shouted over a radio.

"Rolling!" replied another voice. A line of vehicles, a convoy of trucks interspersed with jeeps and makeshift armored platforms rolled through the open doors. It was the real supply convoy, bringing necessary supplies through to the people on the wrong side of the I-15 Break. Food. Water. Medicine. Some of Evie's people peeled off and hot-wired the Bradley Fighting Vehicles within the Guard's line. It had never been their intent to start a shooting war, but that's what it had come to. Even more supplies were liberated from the outpost.

"North isn't here," Parthenope sneered. "Coward."

"Got a promotion for shooting Phoebe, did he?" spat Thelxiepeia. "I know he's a Scion, but he's siding with the Titans. He's a dead man."

"He'll be with the President. They don't have a checkpoint anymore, and we can bring our people through in numbers," Lya said.

"With you to the end, Lya," Parthenope affirmed.

"Target inbound," came the transmission. "Red Five, looks like they're yours."

"Red Five, standing by." The Maenad manning the radio nodded to her companions.

"Oooooh, pretty," sneered one, watching the approaching helicopter. "Shoot it, kill it, make it bleed."

The other Maenad angled her launcher. "Come to Kleptolmne, darling ..."

"Nellis reports a small crowd of protesters out by the main gate," the Secret Service agent told President Holliwell. "I'm not worried yet, but something's up. Didn't hear anything from our usual sources."

"Keep me appraised, Alaric," Holliwell nodded.

The helicopter lurched suddenly. The agent dropped into his seat and fastened his harness. "Shit just got real, Sir. That was SAM fire." A Marine crewman listened to his headset. "Mr. President, we took a hit. It's serious, but we'll make it to ground," he reported. "Recommend the Las Vegas Country Club. We've been there before and know how to secure it. We'll get you on the ground, and then call in the reserve chopper from Nellis."

Holliwell nodded. "Make it happen, Sergeant."

Fenris smiled and gave reassuring nods to the flight crew and agents travelling with him. It was finally coming together, after decades of delays and miscues. The right combination of people, places, and things.

Ragnarok would unfold with the swiftness foretold in legend. It would be glorious.

The pilot brought Marine One in for a landing on the strip of lawn between the clubhouse and the links. The Marines threw open the doors and deployed, forming an armed cordon. Secret Service agents bundled President Holliwell out of the chopper and into the clubhouse proper. Inquiries by the staff were met with icy silence.

"All right, secure the chopper and get a defensive perimeter up," Rick Krieger told his people. "Three men on the roof, report on the quarter hour! Let's shag it!"

President Holliwell takes note of two particular diners.

"All right, can we get some additional troops down here?" he's asking. "North! What am I paying you for?"

"We've got your back, Mr. President," North says. He takes out his smartphone and starts making calls.

"And Ryder. All right, screw Congress," he says. "We've got a situation here. You're acting Secretary of Defense, period." 


	39. Hitoshi's No Good Very Bad Day

(Hitoshi)

"... I want you to be my SecDef," Holliwell said.

You've been through too many boardroom showdowns to have anything but a poker face and polite smile.

"That's quite a step up from freshman Congressman," you say. "I -"

Your cell phone rings. The caller ID tells you it's Evie.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," you say. "I've been expecting this call. Excuse me."

You get up from the table and move towards the service area.

"Evie? Something weird is happening," you tell her. "I was speaking to you, and the next thing I know, it's three hours later, and I'm having dinner wi-"

"That's not the President. That's Fenris, literally a wolf in sheep's clothing," Evie warns you. "The reason Loki is playing with alternate realities is that they're non-linear. Things that would normally take years may only be minutes in our world."

"Then I may not have much time. I just got asked to be Secretary of Defense ..."

Evie nods to herself, having seen that. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, "Well, I'm pretty positive that your family is human. which is...good and bad." She's certain that she doesn't need to expound upon that with Hitoshi. He is well aware of what it means.

"Like I said, earlier, it will be an assassination that will start WWIII. I don't know who the assassin will be. And, I'm not entirely certain who will be killed, but I'm leaning towards the president...or, someone who _looks_ like the president. I'm sure Fenris is not going to sacrifice himself to start the war." Evie shakes her head. "It was in one of Lya's visions and she's not here to clarify."

Evie continues to speak, "I'm not sure if the assassination happens in your reality or ours, though. Fenris just took Holliwell's place in our reality, too, but he's still as senator. So, things haven't progressed as far, there."

"Do you think you could do some research on your side and see if you can figure out how Holiwell gained presidency in your timeline? Maybe that information can help Lya and Alex in ours. Right now, I'm in a position to pass information back and forth and I'll stay here to do that as long as I can."

"Hitoshi listens as Evie speaks. "Yea, I can and will look into it as soon as I can do so. " He sees a secret service agent move near him. "Look, I told you, I need twenty computers with top not graphics cards and plenty of ram, and I'll need you to set them up. It's for my employees who wish to continue further education. Yes by.." the agent passes by obviously checking things out as part of the preparation for the president to leave.

"I'll do so as fast as possible, but I'm not sure if I can call you. You might have to call me. I'll write the Japanese Kanji for now on a piece if paper in my home office when I find something. " He says switch back to the original conversation.

"Okay. Is there a time you want me to try and call? I know time's getting all wonky but...I'll do my best to do so when you expect me to," she says. Hitoshi is most likely correct in that he won't be able to contact her, so she'll have to check in.

"And, is there anything else you want me to check from here?" she asks. Best to make good use of any time that she has.

Hitoshi thinks. "If you can find out when the attack is going to happen and on who, before I do, contact me immediately. I have people I can send to protect the target. "

"Will do! Take care of yourself, okay? We want to keep you in one piece!" Evie smiles encouragingly, though Hitoshi can't see her. "Over and out."

Evie hangs up the phone, considering what to seek out, next. Perhaps the best thing to do is simply watch Fenris in Hitoshi's reality, for a bit. Maybe if she sees what he is doing, she can figure out how he got to the point where he is, now...and alert the others to possible future plans.

"That's one thing that's nice about being President," Holliwell says as you return to your seat. "Someone else gets to answer the damned phone."

"By the way, I'm not a big fan of sushi, but this is excellent. I may have to borrow this fellow the next time the Japanese delegation comes to town," he adds. "So, are you in or out? I can put your name in the hat either way, of course. Your being in Congress is a bonus."

Hitoshi smiles. "Mr. President, I prefer to answer most of my own calls, it's one of my small quirks."

He eats a Sushi and chews thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing.

"Hmm.. Secretary of Defense. It does have a certain ring to it. Still, before I say yes, I'd like to know more about the job before I put pen to paper. If you have the time to talk about it I mean."

"If I'm on the other end, I just want to know that people are getting things done," Holliwell tells you. "Hence, the shakeup. I put my agenda on the table. That's no secret, though the media would have you believe I'm ready to start rounding up heretics. I have an understanding with Senate leaders, I have Bob Malcolm to crack the whip with Congress, and now it's time to put the right people in place for my cabinet."

"I'll be frank, Hitoshi - it's not the world we once knew. The Break hit a lot of countries hard, some of them harder than America," he continues. "Some of our traditional allies are hurting. Some of our old adversaries are prarie-dogging to see what they can get away with. So it's like this ..."

He uses a chopstick to put a generous dab of wasabi on a side dish and swish it in some soy sauce.

"I can piss around, water things down, and nothing gets done. Or," he says, taking another dab of wasabi and applying it directly to a piece of sushi. "I tackle things head on. Never mind that it's not how America used to do business, it's how we do it now. And I want people who understand. People who are willing to sacrifice to get something done, not come up with reasons why it can't be done."  
"I'm told you're that kind of man."

Evie taps her chin, considering whether she wants to call the others before continuing her vigil or to simply call after she has more information.

_May as well keep everyone on the same page,_ she thinks as she starts to dial her phone. Her intention is to make a conference call, but Alex's phone dumps straight into voicemail. So, she calls Lya, hoping that she's available.

Hitoshi expression does not waver. "Whoever told you that Mr. President, is making assumptions. I don't needlessly sacrifice others if there is a different way that can still get the job done. However, That still means I get the job done, and don't beat around the bush."

He takes a sip of his Sake.

"The offer sounds interesting, but as I just said before, I'd really like to know what it entails before I walk into the lions den unarmed. Also, I'll have to run it by my wife later, I do have my Family and their needs to consider."

Holliwell/Fenris nods. "Of course. I still think you're who we need, a man with a get-it-done sensibility and who cares about the needs of the many - the people. Don't sell yourself short."

Akane bows her head respectfully. Asami has a small pout on her face - possibly because she'd expected a fun family dinner at Uncle Mitch's, and here's this guy prattling about business; or maybe it's just that she's picking up on the whole Fenris vibe. Children see things their parents do not.

Hitoshi nods. "Well Mr. President, I shall strongly consider it. Let's get through this election to Congress first. We make that step, and by then I shall certainly have an answer for you. And now, I do apologize for sending you away, but I gave my word and promised my darling daughter a family dinner, and I always keep my word and promises, I hope you can forgive me for that quirk."

"Bob Malcolm knows how to get a hold of me," Holliwell/Fenris says. He turns to the agent standing nearby. "Get Marine One spun up. Nellis, then back to D.C."

"Yes, Mr. President," the agent answers.

The President's departure is an elegant dance, tracing back along the line of agents, with two bringing up the rear. You wonder what it is that Fenris needs you for so urgently, and only come up with things involving the military and a military response. Perhaps it's a variation on the build-an-army-on-Midgard strategy that went south at Loki's castle. Asgard might not fare too well against a modern, mechanized army. But why you, and not someone like Alex or Evie?

And how could Alex _not_ be a Scion, yet still be present and pivotal? Humans might exist at the whim of the gods, but Scions were significant points in the fabric of fate. He _had_ to be a Scion, but concealing the truth, hiding from something or someone ...

Mitch delivers another round of sushi. It is a simple roll, but expertly crafted.

"Ryder-san. Dozo," he says. "An _itamae_ understands the best things are often simple, but even then, they must be done in the proper manner, with respect to the craft and one's tools. Asami, the next plate is your pick."

"Ahi!" your daughter smiles.

"As Asami-chan wishes," Mitch smiles. He bows and returns to his board.

Hitoshi smiles at his daughter then glances across the room in a thousand yard stare as he thinks about the things he knows. He thinks about the man he had been, and the one he must now be. He had a family now, but he also had his mission to stop the end of the world. Neither was a mutually exclusive goal. Then there was his friends back in the other world. Would he see them again?

_When you know who you are, you will find your sword._

Hachiman's words ring in your ears. And then there's Izanami's advice:_When you know what you want, you will be a sword._

_Is wanting my family to be safe ... enough?_ you ask yourself. _Do I protect them and to hell with the rest of this make-believe world?_

Make-believe. Well, not entirely. Not when your wife - a woman who died in another reality - is sitting next to you, warm and bright. Not when you have an imp of a daughter full of joy and life.

You know their fate is tied into all of this.

Hitoshi looks over at his wife, then at his daughter, and his face grows hard and determined. "I want them to be safe, to be alive, and happy. I want Lya and Evie and even Alex to be safe. To make that happen, I must stop Fenris, but I can't do it any way I please. No, father is right, Honor is just as, no. Honor is more important than family. There can be no family without honor. My daughter will know an honorable father, and my wife will have an honorable husband. I will save this world and them, but I will do it as a man of honor, and not some backstabbing thug in the night." The thought flashes through his mind, and the glass he is holding, breaks in his hand as his pressure on it increases.

Akane is there with a napkin even before your server. Apologies abound as new glasses and plates are brought to your table, the surface being swept clear with a crumb scraper.

You aren't so distraught that you don't feel the sting of where the broken glass cut into your fingers, though Akane moves your hand off the table so Asami doesn't see any blood.

"I wish I could make it right for you, Hitoshi," Akane says quietly. "Do you remember that one time by the lake, when we talked about what we thought the future would be like?"

"I do. I think I've made a mess of things," you frown. "I should be a samurai. Instead, I'm a ronin. A Yakuza."

"And the label changes who you really are?" she scolds. "You provided leadership to men who had none. A word here, a generous gesture there, care offered to the sons and daughters of men you had to kill. Those are not the acts of a ronin, but a daimyo. Your introspection is a gift, Hitoshi, but do let it drag you down into darkness. The man I love knows better than that."

Hitoshi blinks and looks at his wife catching what she says. He had thought that he must do it all alone, but he realized that saving his family and the world meant not being just a blade, but actually being the man behind the blade, and a man could weird troops as a weapon just as he could a sword.

"A Daimyo." He mutters.

"Is that what father meant? I gave been so blind. I started off just a warrior, but I have moved past that. I am a leader, and a leader leads those that follow." He thinks. He nods at his wife's words.

"You are right."

(Exact Time Unknown)

"For the record, please state your name," said the clerk.

"Alexander North."

"You are an officer with the United States Army National Guard?"

"Correct. I am currently the CO of the Las Vegas National Guard contingent," North said.

"You're a lawyer by trade, is that correct?" one senator asked.

"Correct. I started my military career as a JAG and continued as a lawyer before returning to the Guard full-time," North affirmed. "Relevance?"

"This isn't a courtroom, Colonel."

"Senator, everyone on the committee was given the details of my career.

Senator Durbin could answer your question. So could Senator Moore," North frowned. There were chuckles from the gallery.

"Now, Colonel, I'm just making sure we're all on the same page," the senator smiled.  
"We're on Page 12. You're on Page 2. Keep up, please," North chided.

The senator banged his gavel as the gallery burst into laughter and derisive hoots. Someone shouted, "HooAh!"

"Order! Order!" barked the senator.

"Senator, I'm a military officer. When orders come down, we're expected to have our equipment to hand and our boots on the ground. The enemy isn't going to wait while we sort our papers,," North said. "Do you have any questions for me? Serious questions?"

"Tell us about your hand, Colonel."

"I had to keep a manual safety engaged for several minutes, to skrag the building's computer network," North said. "The Mujahedeen continued to shell the building, and found their range. I was pretty badly torn up by shrapnel."

"Do you harbor any resentment against them?"

"No."

"How is that possible? I know that if someone took my hand off, I'd be pretty pissed off," the senator asked.

"Sir, when you're engaged in a military conflict, you don't have time for personal grudges," North said. "You do what you need to do to keep your people safe and get them through the next day. If that means the enemy wants to play cat-and-mouse with us, I have some Bradley fighting vehicle crews who are very, very good at it."

(Hitoshi's Not Very Good Kind of Terrible and Scary Night)

Dinner over, a mochi ball panda presented to Asami for dessert, and a leisurely stroll back to the residence. All things considered, life is good.

As you pass through the front door, Akane gives you a kiss. She bows her head and says, "I need to put one project to bed. It may take a few hours. You should get some rest before Bob Malcolm and President Holliwell start in on you again."

You nod, but a nightcap isn't going to hurt. You pour yourself two fingers of Glenmorangie and settle back in your chair at your desk. The whisky burns across your tongue and leaves a pleasant warmth behind. Asami dutifully changes into her pajamas and comes to each of you for a good night hug and kiss.

"Night, Papa!" she waves.

In turn, you head to the master bedroom. A mechanical arm slides out from behind the headboard and turns down the covers. The room lights brighten by the nightstand and sink, but dim elsewhere.

"The usual six-thirty alarm, Sir?" the AI asks.

"I guess," you mumble. With luck, the fates won't torment you further by shorting you on sleep.

"Good night, Sir."

_ You know what must be done, you hear a voice say._

_Hai, responds another man's voice. There's a creaking noise, followed by a huffing sound. Once. Twice. A third time. A dull orange glow quickens and turns to reddish gold as the forge comes to life, and you are watching Goro Masamune turn a saetsu in the fire until it, too, begins to glow._

_He withdraws it and lays it on his anvil, hammering it flat, then double. Flat, then double. Back to the forge. More hammering. His hands move swifly and surely, the Master plying his trade. And you know the blade is Honjo Masamune, his masterwork. The blade is shaped and takes form, a hamon painted in moist clay before the sword is quenched in a trough of water. The edge is honed upon a stone, the tsuba and hilt added ..._

You wake. Why dream of Honsho, when it lay broken?

You glance beside you, but the opposite side of the bed is still empty and cool. You rise to see it is just after 2 AM, and pad out into the living room.

You hear sobbing. It's a sound you thought never to hear again, the soul-deep pain of loss and despair etched upon her face the night you rescued her from Daisuke Yakamura.

She is on her knees by her desk, her hair in disarray. Papers strewn about as a wind had blown through the room. Her chair toppled.

"Forgive me. Forgive me," she is murmuring.

"You have but one purpose," a raspy voice hisses, a figure barely glimpsed amid the shadows. "You know what must be done, or I will strip away the gifts I have given you and return you to Yomi!"  
"Get away from her!" you find yourself yelling.

It is Izanami who steps forward from the shadows. She is in a formal kimono decorated with cranes. Shit. The Black Cranes. It's her. It's all been her.

"You and I have an agreement, Hitoshi Ryder. You wanted power, and I have given it to you. Now you must do something for me," she hisses. A maggot writhes out of one nostril. She simply licks it from her lip and smiles.

"Is that what this is about? Leave my wife out of this!" you demand.

"Your wife?" Izanami laughs. "Your wife is here only because I allow it."

Akane shies away from you as well. "No. Don't look at me. Please."

"What did you do to her, you witch?"

"It is through my will that she walks in the world of the living. She is mine, not yours. My handmaiden," Izanami hisses. She gestures, and Akane is raised to a standing position, clearly against her will.

You gasp.

Though you can still recognize the woman you love, her form is gaunt and emaciated. Her clothes hang limply on a near-skeletal form, her flesh pitted and dark with decay. Clouded eyes turn in your direction.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "Please don't hate me."

"Hate you? What ...?"

And you realize Akane was the lure, the temptation that pulled you into this world. So Izanami could have you at her disposal. So Fenris and Loki could play their game of Ragnarok.

SecDef.

SecDeath.

The Secretary of Death.

"Shit," you murmur. You fall to your knees with the weight of realization where you stand: on the precipice of life and death.

"You know what must be done," Izanami tells you. "Do not disappoint me."

She vanishes in a burst of displaced air, sending more papers flying.

Akane is restored to her former beauty. But, knowing you understand the truth, she shies away.  
"I'm sorry," she says again.

There is another burst of fury nearby. Your daughter's room.

_Damn you to hell, Izanami!_ you think.

You leave your still-sobbing wife as you go to check on your daughter. Her bed is empty, the room a whirlwind of debris. There is only the pale moonlight shining through the grid of the window, the cartoon figures dangling from a mobile giving way to distorted, eerie shadows of snatching fingers and tendril-like snares.

"You want to play at war, do you?" you ask the darkness. You are halfway to where Honjo Masamune lay before you remember it is broken, and its forging was just a dream ...

No. It, too, is missing.

Sobbing.

The sound breaks your heart.

Her face streaked with tears, Akane is slumped in a heap where the goddess left her. She shies away as you approach, and words catch in your throat.

"You must hate me," she rasps.

You shake your head, but everything is wrong, cast into turmoil by Izanami's machinations.

The horizon is streaked with the dawn.

What? Dawn? It was ... 2 AM ... wasn't it?

Lights are coming on in the living spaces, part of the AI's program. You hear the burbling of the coffee maker, and the muted buzz of the television, set to the morning news.

You're half expecting to see headlines about a war. You don't, but it's bad enough - it's Colonel North's confirmation hearing as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Events are gaining momentum and taking on a life of their own, it seems ...

Hitoshi ignores the sound of the house and the news for a few moments, grabbing Akane by the wrist and pulling her to him and holding her tightly. He gently strokes her hair as he looks over her head at the wall.

"I love you, I always have, and I always will. In another life, that made me kill a man because he killed you. I killed a man in rage and anger. I was starting make peace with the fact you were gone in that life, and then I was given another chance to do things differently, and that lead to the here and now, and I have you, and you have provided me a daughter... However..."

He tilts her chin up so he's looking into her eyes. "I have to stop this. I have to walk the honorable path, and that may mean losing you and Asami. Izanagi will take you back, she will take you both, I fear she has already taken Asami from us. Still. This war cannot be allowed to happen. You know that. The world will be ruined and Humanity will die if Alex or Fenris launches those bombs. I must stop it. Maybe I will join you then."

He kisses her then lets her go and turns away, walking out of the room. "I don't know what to do, but as long as I am there, maybe I can stop it." He thinks as he showers, and steps into a fresh suit.

He steps out onto the roof of his residence and picks up his phone. He dials Bob Malcom.

"Bob, It's Hitoshi. Tell the President I'm his man."

"I am guilty, not you," Akane whispers in response to your confession. "I love you, and that did not stop with my death. Izanami took that and used it to break me. Both when I was alive, and after. She _is_ darkness.

"You honor me with your sacrifice, but I am not worthy. I have lived in the darkness for so long, I cannot remember the light. Do not let my fate ... do not let your fear for me cast you upon a second path of vengeance."

"I am to deliver you into the hands of your enemies. Running for office is just the beginning," she says. "Izanami can threaten me all she wants. You must be perceptive as well as steadfast."

She swallows hard as if gasping for air. "I was going to tell you. Asami said a very odd thing the other day. She was looking at your broken blade and said, 'When you know who you are, you will find your sword.'"

You recognize the words from the tongue-lashing you received from Hachiman, and Izanami's derisive alternative.

"Bob? It's Hitoshi. Tell the President I'm his man."

"SecDef?" Malcolm asks. "Good man. We'll push for a straight up-or-down vote, get this confirmation twaddle out of the way."

"I still have to win the election."

"What are you talking about? What election?" Malcolm asks. "Are you looking at the wrong page in your day planner? The election was last month, old boy."

_Last month?_

"Of course. My mistake," you stall.  
"Look, pack a couple of suits and get your ass up to Nellis. We can hitch a ride on Air Force One ..."

While Hitoshi is getting ready to meet Malcolm, his phone rings once again. It's Evie.

"Hitoshi. Okay, I've got some news for you. I saw Alex ordering a bomb dropped on part of Vegas to fight Terrorist Lya. I spoke with our Lya, earlier, and we have two major concerns about that," Evie begins, her voice matter of fact. She does not let on that she saw Akane in the aftermath of the attack. She knows that she can not help him, in this matter, and would spare him knowing that she inadvertently spied upon him.

"First, there is the matter of the bomb. That would recreate the kind of destruction that we saw in Castle World. If that was anchored to our world, we would be seeing the same effects, there. Loki would be able to do exactly what he originally set out to do, especially now that he has Alex in his pocket."

Here, Evie pauses as her train of thought derails slightly. Ignoring point two, for the moment, she adds, "I saw Loki holding a piece of shrapnel that I am certain is your world's Alex's relic. That is how Loki is keeping him in line. He has Alex's source of power."

"But, back to the bomb," she switches tracks again. "The second thing that we are worried about is the position that it puts you in. It could be that you are being set up to be a scapegoat for the bombing. Everything goes down, Loki and Fenris spin things and you are left holding the bag."

Evie clears her throat, pausing. She adds in a softer voice, one that is not all cut-and-dry, business, "I do have some good news, though. I saw your sword, Hitoshi. I saw it being reforged."

"So maybe if I can get the shrapnel, it will free Alex to become one of the good guys. Easier said than done."

He sighs. "Not that I'm going to give up. I've agreed to be the Sec Def in hopes that I can stop the incident if i can free Alex, and Stop Fenris, maybe everything will be alright. "

He switches trains of thought.

"So, Lya in this world us an Eco Terrorist. Interesting. What do you think the odds are that I could talk to he and convince her of what's happening? Maybe she would help me."

"Honestly, I have no idea," Evie says. "I haven't checked on either mine or Lya's counterparts in your world. If you want, I can take a look in the Vantage and see if I can find out about them. I figure you can use all the allies you can find."

"Please do. Any help is welcome. My days of going it alone are done. As for my sword, I don't know if I have a right to it right now. I have to earn that right back." Hitoshi replies.

"Well, what I see in the Vantage is what _is,_ not what might be. So, I'd say that, if your sword is being reforged, then you are on the right track," Evie tries to sound encouraging, but it's hard after having seen all that she has.

"Give me a few minutes...I hope...and I'll call back. Keep your fingers crossed that Loki doesn't mess with time, again," Evie sighs. "I don't want to be getting back to you with news of something that happened weeks ago, to you"

"I have faith in you my friend. " Hitoshi says before closing the phone.

You direct the AI to prepare several suits and a travel bag.

"Yes, Sir. I'll have that ready for you in fifteen minutes," it says. Waldoes slide out of their recesses and begin packing.

Akane is half-heartedly picking up things knocked askew by Izanami's fit of rage. She's still crying, though not wailing in despair as she had been.

"Akane," you say. She winces. Damn Izanami. "I don't know what the future holds for us. I don't know if I can save you."

"I understand," she says. Though she hides it well behind a stoic expression, you can hear the hurt and doubt in her voice. You know she's telling herself she's unworthy ... of everything. And that it's her fault.

"I do know this," you say, gently turning her to face you and tipping her head to look up at you, "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, in this world or any other. When ... you were gone, in my other life, it was memories of you that helped me through my darkest moments. I have lived behind a wall, in some ways. Hiding in a castle and thinking I was strong because I'd put walls up around my pain. Finding causes to champion so I could tell myself I was making a difference. And then I came here. I found you again. And ..."

You pause, the words catching in your throat.

"I know you were brought here as a bribe, to tempt me with a life I have always wanted, but never knew," you continue. "But seeing you, seeing our daughter ... has rekindled a fire in me. Allowed me to see things more clearly. Thank you."

There is no confusion, no doubt as you kiss her. She is the woman you love, and always will be.

"Go," she says. "Save the world."  
"More than that, I hope," you smile.

Moments later, Hitoshi climbs into the back of the corporate limo. "Morning steven." He says to the driver.

"Good morning Mr. Ryder. "

Hitoshi smiles. "Please, just call me Hitoshi."

"But sir, I mean Hitoshi, you've always had us call you sir or Mr. Ryder before."

"Yes, we'll I am making some changes around here and one of th is to be more open with my employees. If you feel you gave to, then I won't stop you from calling me sir, but considering all the different titles heaped on me, I think back to basics is better."

"Umm yes sir, I mean Hitoshi. I see I'm to take you to the airport."

"Yes, but not right away. I'm waiting for a phone call, so for now, just drive around. In fact, let's get some breakfast, it's on me."

"All right, Si- I mean, Congres- ... Hitoshi," he stammers. "Where would you like to go?"

"How about the Soul Food Diner?" you suggest.

"That's awfully close to the I-15 Break," the driver points out. "We'd probably be better going to the Las Vegas Country Club or even Flyboy's up by Nellis. You're heading to Nellis, right? Not McCarran?"

"Yes, Nellis AFB. Breakfast first."

"Yes, Sir. Hitoshi."

The Las Vegas Country Club isn't far from the Strip. Despite the disaster of The Break, it remains an exclusive venue for those with the money to afford membership.

"Good Morning, Congressman Ryder. A table for one?"

"Two, please. It's my driver's birthday," you spin a polite lie.

"Very good, Mr. Ryder."

The menu offers what some would call extravagant or elitist fare. You can get your basic bacon-and-eggs, but you can also order an Eggs Benedict, and know that the Hollandaise is made fresh. You can order an appetizer of smoked salmon.

"_Ohayo_, Congressman," says your waitress. "Would either of you like something to drink? And are you ready to place your order, or do you need a few more minutes?"

"I'll have Milk and an Orange juice." He turns towards his driver. "Steven, how about you?"

Every few seconds, he keeps glancing down at his phone. "Come on Evie." He mutters to himself, hoping she can call before he has to commit to getting on the plane, and doing his best to stall for time. He also thinks about the Eco terrorist Lya, and wonders why shes doing it.

"Is she really a villain, or is she fighting against Fenris?"

The thoughts race through his head as he tries to formulate a plan.

Your beverages are presented. It's fresh-squeezed orange juice, not too sweet, and not too pulpy. The milk is in a lightly-frosted glass. Steven adds a liberal amount of cream to his coffee, stirring it to blend the dark and the light ...

You wince, half-expecting the dark swirl of coffee to turn into some kind of tenebrous tendril reaching out to twist the knife. And then you realize what's going on. Some of it, at least.

Two universes, forced together.

With Loki and Fenris wielding the spoon.

A reality at war, internally and externally. And your home, perhaps not perfect, but not all 'Eve of Destruction,' either.

"Something wrong, S-... Mr. Ryder?" your driver asks. Ah, well. Old habits die hard.

"Just thinking about the Break, Steven. I just don't really see a solution."

"Not one you can throw money at," a familiar voice says. Alex North. He's in a crisp uniform, not his battlefield utilities. Instead of a prosthesis, his sleeve is pinned back just below his right elbow. "I guess we're waiting for the same bus."

"So it would seem," you smile. _Gods. I know you're my friend in another reality, Alex, but here, you're a bit of an asshole. Go away._ "I just wanted a quiet breakfast before heading to Nellis."

_A quiet breakfast_, thought North. _And you couldn't get that in your little Yakuza fiefdom?_

"I underst-" he begins.

A muted thudding sound reaches your ears.

"Chopper?" North says, turning to look out the window.

It's not what either of you expect. It's Marine One, the presidential helicopter, but there's black smoke billowing from one engine, and a contingent of troops emerges, forming a defensive cordon around President Holliwell.

"All right, can we get some additional troops down here?" he's asking. "North! What am I paying you for?"  
"We've got your back, Mr. President," North says. He takes out his smartphone and starts making calls.

"And Ryder. All right, screw Congress," he says. "We've got a situation here. You're acting Secretary of Defense, period."

"What happened?" you ask.

"Maenads," someone says. "Where'd they get armor-piercing arrows? And how'd they know we were inbound?"

_I don't know about the arrows, but Lya has the gift of prophecy,_ you tell yourself. _This is going to get ugly. She wouldn't start a fight unless ..._

It is at this rather inconvenient time that Hitoshi's phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, you see that it is Evie.

"Right Mister President. My First act then is to get you to safety. My Limo is an exec model. Should be as safe as yours sir."

He turns towards his driver, then towards North and the President. "Steven, we need the Limo. Mr. President, North, my man needs an escort to go get the car. Can you provide a man?"

He pulls out the earpiece for his phone and turns it on sliding it into his ear and hits the button. "Speak, make it quick."

"Right," Evie says crisply, figuring that she must've caught him at an inopportune time. "The LVPD still exists, but is now running underground disguised as a fleet of taxis with Evie as their Chief. She's currently slipping supplies to people on the other side of the Break, trying to avoid the Guard."

Even as the words are coming out of her mouth, it strikes Evie how weird it feels to to be speaking of herself in third person. But, this isn't really her. It's...other...her.

"Lya...aw...geez. Lya has tipped the Guard off that supplies are coming in and will be using Evie's people to set up an ambush for the Guard. I don't know if Evie is aware of this. I'm inclined to say she isn't," she continues. "But, Lya is looking for revenge. She holds Alex responsible for Phoebe's death. I don't know if Alex ordered a strike that killed her or pulled the trigger himself. Doesn't matter. Lya is hitting the Guard. Also, Arky is working with her."

"Lya and Arky both have prophecy. They may already know about you, in some way. Evie might be hard to convince that you aren't the old Hitoshi, but...I think you have a chance to win them both to your side. They are both actively working counter to what Alex and the government wants, in their own ways."

"I'll text you their locations in a few minutes. Just in case someone gets your phone, there will be three sets. One will be a fake. The real ones will be marked by the first letter of their last names," she says.

There is a heavy sigh from the other end of the line, followed by a short pause, "I'm leaving the Vantage after this. I can't come to your world so I'm going back to ours. Good luck, Hitoshi. If I don't see you, again, know this - I am proud to have called you friend and to have fought this battle by your side. Take care."

Knowing that Hitoshi probably can't talk, she simply closes the phone. She closes her eyes for a second and sits, wishing her friend luck with all her heart.

That only lasts for a moment, though. She quickly types in Lya and Evie's coordinates and sends the text to Hitoshi:

A: (fake coordinates)  
B: (Lya's coordinates)  
C: (Evie's coordinates)

There's a burst of activity as the Marines and Secret Service assigned to the presidential helicopter deploy, including breaking out some serious firepower.

"How are you with a sidearm, Ryder?" Colonel North asks.

"I know which end to point at the enemy. That's about it," you note.

"Well, time for some on-the-job training," he says, handing you a 9mm pistol.

"My limo is an executive model. Should be as safe as yours, Sir," you point out.

"Maenads had an SAM. One of those'd turn the limo into an Easy Bake Oven. We can hold here while the reserve chopper lifts from Nellis," says North. "And it won't be just the one. We'll be bringing some manpower down, and have a Warthog do a sweep. Anything that's out of place is going to get turned into salsa."

"You'd mentioned they were up to something. Do you think this is it?"

"Could be. Doesn't matter. They want to play rough, well, the Guard and the Marines will oblige them," North said.

Hitoshi shakes his head. "I have people in places getting info for me. I wondered why the terrorist was attacking Las Vegas. Well its not Vegas. It's you North, and the president that she wants. It's personal. North, you apparently killed her friend. I have no idea yet why she's after you, Mr. President. "

He gestures to his phone. "That was my person on the other end. They may have just given their life to get me that info."

"Oh, the terrorist has an issue with my oath to 'preserve, protect, and defend'?" Colonel North sneers. "I seem to recall having a run-in with some other people like that. Fuck them all. I'm not going to apologize for doing my job."

You realize you don't know this man at all. Just as your decision to spare Daisuke Yakamura's life changed your own history, the Alex North of this world has traveled a much different path.

"Give the word, Mr. President, and I'll stamp closed on that account," North says. "The Las Vegas National Guard stands ready to push across the I-15 Break and eliminate the threat."

"Do it," Holliwell/Fenris says. "If you can spare any men, we'll want them here. I imagine they'll be making a push on our location."

"Mr. President!" calls out a Secret Service agent.

"Yes, Rick?"

"Sir, I'm sorry - Nellis informs us the reserve chopper is unable to lift. Maenads shot the fuel tank, some kind of armor-piercing arrow."

"Clever. Trying to flush the game," Holliwell/Fenris smiled. "ETA on repairs?"

"Might have to last the night, go for a dawn extraction."

"Do it. Colonel North, mobilize the Jotun."

"Yes, Sir."

"Jotun? They sound special forces. Never heard of them though. " Hitoshi asks, walking over. He looks at the pistol in his hand the puts on the safety and slides it into the side of his pants. It wasn't a holster but it would do.

"Do you believe in God, Ryder?" North asks. "How about gods, plural? Magic?"

"Ya know North, after all the shit that's happened, I do. Though wich one started the break and all that is beyond me." Hitoshi grins.

"I never ask 'who started it?'" North says. "My job is to finish it. If the gods want to drag us back to the days where we're dancing around the fire naked, I'll fight them every inch of the way."

"Anyway, the Maenads aren't the only ones who can leverage mythology for points," Colonel North says. "The Jotun are, indeed, special forces. A dozen of our best men and women, empowered through ritual magic. They're stronger than the average human. I sure wouldn't want to get in a fight with one."

"I had to argue with your predecessor about them," Holliwell/Fenris. "The fact that he wasn't as forward-thinking is why you're here. We're on the verge of a new age, Hitoshi. No more gods. No more kowtowing to anything but human power and determination. We will remake the world as we see fit."

The sentiment is disturbing, of course, but it's the touch of mania in the President's tone, the absolute certainty of the extremist. And you have to bite back the obvious response, because this is not Justin Holliwell - it is the Fenris Wolf, cloaked in another man's identity.

Still, it's not what you expected - you'd always thought Fenris was this violent ... beast. Not a highly charismatic individual surrounded by true believers. It casts a different light on the legend - Tyr being the only one to _resist_ Fenris' power.

"Impressive," you say.


	40. The Return Home

(Alex - The Return Home)

It wasn't like the hellish ride out and back to Yggdrasil, nor the kick-you-in-the-teeth teleport out of Loki's fortress. It was more like one of those giant slides at amusement parks, complete with the moment where you sail clear of the slide itself for a split-second.

Alex appeared in a burst of displaced air, scattering a handful of papers from the table where he'd left them the night before. Two nights? He wasn't sure how much time they'd spent in Asgard.

_First things first,_ he thought, turning to look out the window. No snow.

But, also, a smattering of candles and flowers and note cards at his doorstep, because the logical conclusion was, when someone's car is in their driveway and the house explodes, that they were home and inside.

He rummaged through the closet and got out his absolute last courtroom suit. He left the jacket behind and didn't bother with a tie, because getting new clothes was tops on his to-do list.

The memorial shrine was an odd collection of thank you's and god-bless, which he couldn't just leave sitting there. He gathered things up and moved them inside, then spent a moment or two printing out a sign that he taped to the door.

_We are pleased to announce that Mr. North is alive and in good health, however, his office will be closed while dealing with the issues arising from the gas main explosion near his home._

He called a cab. Shoot, he'd have to rent a car, now, too ...

(Lya)

"You live here?" Rikke asked as the group materialized with a blast of wind. At least Heimdall was right and there hadn't been a blaze of light and otherworldly special effects, though that would make a killer stage entrance.

"Home, sweet home," said Klepto. "Let's get you some Midgard clothes."

If anything, the contemporary outfit made Mimir's daughter look every bit like a member of the group ...

"Not exactly the Ritz Carlton, but hey, home is what you make of it, right?" Lya says as she moves to pick up some of the old pizza boxes and beer cans that have been here who knows how long. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable while Klepto finds some clothes for you. Or if you like, there's this fabulous thing called indoor plumbing that lets you take showers with hot water down the hall and to the right." Lya gestures with her hand down the hall. "Phoebe, why don't you give Rikke the nickel tour? Toxic, get on our website and let our fans know we're all right."

Lya clears a spot off the couch and sits down with her her staff between her hands. "Time for me to bring our sister home..."

(Lya)

_I summon my strength to me,_ you intone. And while the other Furies do not teleport from where they stand, there's an electric feeling in the air. At least you don't have to spin around and go running about in a star-spangled corset.

And Orithia appears, holding a shovel in a fighting stance. "Phew. I thought that creepy old bugger would be back for seconds. Or to find out what happened to his pet talking head."  
"My father is at rest, now, thanks to you and your band," Rikke says. "I care not what Odin thinks. "Who is this Arkay person? A warrior?"

Lya smiles and squeezes Orithia's shoulder before Klepto grabs Orithia in a bear hug. "Welcome back, sister."

Orithia wheezes for breath as she laughs. "OK...OK... I wasn't gone _that_long!"

"Arky is like me... except he's a child of the Greek god Apollo so I guess that makes us cousins. He's cool... a fantastic artist, and he's been doing his best to help the outcasts of society find a safe place where they can belong," Lya explains to Rikke. "We're hoping he'll be able to find you a place to stay out of the way of this mess and hidden from their sight."

"You'll like him," Phoebe adds with a smile. "His father was a prophet as well, so you might have more in common than you think."

Toxic walks out of the kitchen with a 6 pack of beer and promptly starts handing cans out to those who want one. "Get this," she says as she hands a beer to Lya. "I checked our website and it was blasted with emails from people asking everything from 'Why did we break up?' to 'What's the name of the album you guys must be working on?'" She shakes her head in disbelief. "I wasn't sure what to say other than a general message that we're still around."

Lya chuckles as she opens up her beer and takes a sip. "Over the Rainbow, maybe?"

Orithia snorts. "How about Fatebreakers? That seems more fitting."

Lya's eyes light up. "You know... that's not half bad. First things first, though... gotta call Arky and get our new friend situated. Albums can come later."

She pulls out her phone from her coat pocket and pages through to the contact for Arky before pressing Send. "I just hope he's somewhere with reception..."

(Lya)

Arky picks up the phone almost immediately.  
"Hey, Cousin! I was thinking about you, and not just because I keep having dreams that involve the end of the world and people who just happen to be in the news."

"I saw you, of course - we were dancing, and then it got all funhouse mirror-like. And I have this stupid slot machine jingle running in my head, but it turns into 'Eve of Destruction' and mushroom clouds."

"But enough about me. How're you?"

"Doing my best to stop the apocalypse while pissing off as many Norse Gods as I can... so you know... same old, same old," Lya chuckles as she runs a hand through her hair. "We've got a friend who could really use a safe place to stay out of the way of prying eyes, Arky. We got her out of a bad situation with some powerful people who were taking advantage of her and I want to keep her safe. I'll owe you big time."

She pauses and takes another sip of her beer before swallowing roughly. "Wait a minute... you said 'people who happen to be in the news.' Who and what have they been doing in the news, Arky? We've been out of the loop for a while so we need to get caught up... because those weren't ordinary dreams, dude."

"Let's see, someone blows up a house belonging to a lawyer who was painting the town red with the Furies. A home invasion, self-defense case that has been 'no comment' from the friendly neighborhood samurai. And another attempted robbery stopped by Messrs. Smith &amp; Wesson," he ticks off instances.

"And I've seen all of them in my dreams. I'm pretty sure they're playing for the home team, well, except maybe our samurai friend. Something funky going on there, too many puppet strings and shadows. Just because I live in a hole in the ground doesn't mean I have my head buried there," he laughs.

"And we've got nothing but space for people wanting to tell the system or their parents to shove it. As long as it's not nihilistic b.s. and tearing shit up just to tear shit up."

(Alex)

"Hey! North! You're fucking alive!" exclaimed one of the bail bondsmen from his downstairs neighbor.

"Yeah. Long story," Alex said.

"I'll bet," winked the bondsman, outlining a set of feminine curves with his hands. It hadn't been that long since he'd 'hit the town' with the Furies to draw out Lyman. Loki. And look where that had gotten them.

"Anyway, got a stack of errands to run. Gotta jet, Carlos," Alex excused himself.

A short cab ride later, he was getting fitted for several new suits at the local warehouse store. He'd take advantage of his veteran's status and hit the PX at Nellis for street clothes and sundries. He'd check with his insurance agent to see what was and wasn't covered, though he imagined the utility company wouldn't want to admit fault.

Returning to his office, he dumped his purchases on the sofa. He'd be living out of his office for a bit. He changed out of his suit, which would head to the dry cleaners, and into jeans, a t-shirt with a khaki BDU jacket overtop, and some desert commando boots. He stowed the rest of his purchases in the closet and his go-bag.

Except for one item that he didn't remember purchasing. It was a black neck scarf of a lightweight fabric, almost like tactical netting, but he hadn't gotten anything like that at the exchange. There was no label or price tag to clearly identify it as something from there, and it wasn't on the receipt - maybe it had been folded up in some of the other clothes by accident.

But it felt _different._ More like his challenge coin, a relic imbued with power. Still, it wasn't like Tyr was given to dropping by with birthday presents. Leaving it behind, however, wasn't something he wanted to do. He draped it over his neck and headed out to meet Lya and the Furies at the diner.

"You're too cool for school, Arky," Lya replies. "We've got places to go and people to meet now that we're back, so we'll get Rikke hooked up with some supplies and drop her off with you guys. You and she should have plenty to talk about, dude, considering her dad left her with similar gifts. I think she just wants the freedom to live her life the way she chooses, you know? Be a sweetheart and let me know if those dreams change and I'll throw in some beer when we drop off."

Lya hangs up the phone and looks to the others with a clap of her hands. "Right, let's get changed and then we can get you set up before we go meet Alex."

"I kind of like the armor," Klepto grins. The other Furies laugh.

"I know what you mean," Phoebe says. "It feels _right._"

"It reminds you who you really are," Toxic said. "Gods strike me dead if my armor ever feels like I've set it aside."

"You are an interesting group of shieldmaidens," Rikke says.

"How so?" asked Orithia.

"You have the feel of warriors from Valhalla," Rikke noted.

"I guess it's sort of the same thing. We were called to the service of the gods," Phoebe says. "It is an honor."

"To protect your seer? Lya, is it?" Rikke asks.

"I do not know what fate Lya is called to," Klepto says. "She is a sister in arms, and that is all that matters."

"Awww... love you too guys!" Lya exclaims as she claps hands on Phoebe and Klepto's shoulders with a smile. "But as much as I love our new look, battle armor is going to give the security at the Grandview fits if we try to walk into their boardroom dressed like we're Vikings ready to pillage and burn."

She walks between them and starts unbuckling bracers and tossing them on the coffee table. "Don't get me wrong," she continues as she turns around to face them with a wink, "we're still going into that place like a raiding party and the board won't know what hit them... but we can't _look_ like one. Once we get Rikke set up we'll meet Alex at the diner, who can hopefully help us fit in with those higher up mucky-mucks."

"I'll see what kind of bag I can put together for Rikke," Orithia offers. "We're about the same size, so I can give you some clothes."

(Alex)

Alex glanced at his smartphone as it rang. He didn't recognize the number, although it was local.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Alex," came a voice that was both familiar and not. He knew who it was, but there was an appropriately feral earthiness to it. No more games. No pretending to be something she wasn't.

"Sunny?"

"Mmm. Somehow, I didn't think Jason had managed to kill the toughest one of your group. Another screwup."

"You flatter me. And there's more to the tale," Alex said.

"Oh, you mean those 'other realities' Laufeyson has been playing with?" Soleil said disdainfully. "The only one that matters is this one. The rest might as well be make-believe."

"I don't know, it seemed real enough to me," Alex told her.

"Oh, yes. I've had the tour," Sunny laughed. "What did he show you?"

"An attempt to summon a legion of einjehar and use me as an anchor to reach Asgard."  
"Clearly, it didn't work. You're still here," she said with audible malice.

"You sound disappointed," Alex told her. "I seem to recall an attempt to add me to your fan club at the DA's office."

"I'll take you over Chris any day," she laughed. "After all, he's just a man. You and I have something in common, at least."  
"I wouldn't sleep with you if it came with a paycheck. I'd be afraid I'd wake up with a body part missing."

"Did Chris tell you I like to bite?"

"Educated guess," Alex said. "You didn't call to gloat. What's up?"

"I'll give you Loki, if you let us go."

"Us? Oh, you mean your twin ... sister?"

"Perceptive, Alex. Our ... political allegiances aside, we would have made a good team. The right word in his ear and Chris has a nervous breakdown. You could step in to his shoes," Hunter told him.

"Pass. And not really a big leap of imagination to imagine the children of Fenris would be involved in my fate," Alex pointed out.

"Think about it. Call me back if you want to talk."

(Lya)

At about the time that Orithia goes to find clothes for Rikke, Lya's cell phone rings. She picks it up, seeing the caller ID identify Evie.

"What's the word, hummingbird?" Lya answers.

Evie smiles at the sound of Lya's voice, "Well, I've got news. None of it very good but...news, nonetheless."

"I tried to look for our catless reality but what I found is that it simply doesn't exist. The mess we're in now is because Odin is stubborn as the day is long. He was never going to not visit Mimir. What is done is done and there's no turning back time. **But**...none of this is how Odin or Loki thinks it will be. Yes, mankind will be pushed to the edge of destruction, but that is the only thing that is definite. The outcome of that is still unknown and it won't be determined by a god. A mortal is the one who will make the decision that either saves or destroys us."

Lya can picture the detective, brow furrowed as she ponders over everything, "Now, I'm not sure that means that we'll make that decision or someone else will. Yes, we can die which makes us mortal but, technically, the gods can die, too. By "mortal" are we talking pure human or do demigods fall into that category, as well, since we are somewhere between divine and earthly?"

Evie makes a 'mmhmm' sound that equates to a verbal shrugs of the shoulders. However, she continues, "I also talked to Hitoshi, warning him about what is happening in his world. It turns out that, over there, Loki is impersonating Malcolm. And, get this...Fenris is already president, there, in the guise of Justin Holliwell. Fenris has tapped Hitoshi to be his Secretary of Defense."

"I've asked Hitoshi to find out what he can about Holliwell's campaign and his rise to power, there. I'm hoping it will give us some clues as to his plans in our reality."

"Secretary of Defense?" Lya exclaims as she runs a hand through her hair and starts pacing in her living room. "Gods...no wonder that vision I had back in Castle World showed Hitoshi's hand on the nuclear slot machine! We managed to stop them from getting the missile codes from Ellison in Castle World, so now they've got Hitoshi stuck in Shadow World just primed to make sure that _he_ pushes the button _for_ them."

She sighs and pauses as she picks up a beer off the table and takes a long drink. "You talked to him, Evie... do you think he understands what they're trying to do to him? I love him like a brother, but him being alone in that den of thieves really worries me. I'm sure they know by now how easy it is to get Hitoshi to do things if they can convince him it's a sacrifice for the 'greater good.'"

She muffles the receiver on the phone as she kicks the couch and mutters "God dammit you just had to go off on your own, didn't you?" before coming back to the phone.

"If you talk to him again, be sure to tell him what I saw: Him being buddy buddy with Fenris and pushing the button that starts a nuclear war. I know he's going to think that if he takes the position he'll be in the right position to stop them... but I'm afraid the only position he's going to be in is that of a scapegoat."

"He knows, Lya. I flat out told him that it's Fenris and Loki who are pulling the strings themselves. No doppelgangers. It's _them._ But..." Evie's voice sounds pained as she continues. "...he has a family, now. And, I checked to see if they are human or puppets. Now, I'm not 100%, for certain, this-is-in-stone...but I'm confident in saying that they are human. That's going to be his weakness, there. Protecting his family."

Inwardly, she winces. Hitoshi is not the only one with that particular weakness. So far as she knows, her own family is safe but...who knows if it will remain so?

(Alex)

Although he'd seen the ambulance in the parking lot, Alex hadn't thought much about it. Until he saw T.J. and Valeria sitting at a table.

"Heymph, Amex!" T.J. waved in mid-bite.

"Alex!" Valeria called out. She got up from her table and met him by the door, hugging him. Alex caught T.J. flashing him a thumbs-up gesture. "What happened?"

"Loki blew my house up to match events in an alternate reality, where he'd used my presence to mask the summoning of a legion of einjehar, and then used _me_ as an anchor to tie that reality to Asgard," Alex told her. "In that future, Las Vegas was caught up in Fimbulwinter."

Valeria looked him in the eyes. "There's more."

"Apparently, Hel made it possible for the others to find me," he said. "And she apparently believes I'm trespassing in her... affairs."  
"All warriors do. Their swords scribe the line between life and death," Valeria said solemnly. "But only the valorous go to the halls of Odin and Freya."

"I get the feeling that Tyr worked a deal back ... well, you know."

"I cannot speak to such matters. But an uneasy truce exists between War and Death - they need each other, but cannot be subservient to the other," she said.

"Short version, we're regrouping to plan our next move. I'm meeting Lya, here, and Evie is looking for something at Bifrost," Alex explained.

"Then I shall not interfere."

"Hey, when this is all over, can we do something normal? Catch a show or movie?" Alex smiled. "It's starting to feel like 'real' isn't real."

"I cannot promise anything," Valeria said. "Well, perhaps this much, at least."  
She kissed him.

(Lya)

"So, my next move is to watch Shadow World Fenris and see if I can figure out what he's doing there. From what we've seen, so far, it's like he's running basically the same program in each world to see how things shake out with different variables. Since things are farther along in Shadow World, it should give us some insight into what he has planned in our world. Forewarning and all," Evie continues.

"I can also keep an eye on Holliwell, see if Fenris is trying to pump him for information. If he's moved, I'll text you the coordinates."

"Oh!" Evie snaps her fingers, almost forgetting to share some very important information. "Loki's messing with timelines is doing funky shit to time itself. When I was talking to Hitoshi, he lost 3 hours. I hung up the phone to check on his family, called him back just a few minutes later and...BAM!..he was having dinner with Fenris. Hitoshi experienced it almost like...a..a leap. You ever watch that old TV show, _Quantum Leap_? It seemed sort of like that, only instead of leaping into another person, he was leaping to himself in the future. So, don't be caught off-guard if something similar happens to you and Alex."

"Is there anything that you can think of that I should look at? Keep in mind that the Vantage won't show me the past or future, just what is, right now. Of course, 'right now' is different in different realities but...you know what I mean," Evie asks.

Lya sighs. "We'll bring them with us if we have to, but it's time for him to come home, Evie. He can't do this alone, and if we're going to stop Fenris we'll need his help. In the meantime I need to see if I can save his hotel. Can you see what's going on with the Fenris girls right now?"

"I'll talk to Heimdall and see if we can extract Hitoshi. But, he may not want to come back here, Lya," she says softly. "If he has a family, now, it may be that he'll want to save Shadow World and stay there. But, I'll ask him. I'll let him know that we need him."

Evie chuckles ruefully, "I won't tell him that he can't save Shadow World alone. I have a feeling that may be taken as a challenge."

"As far as the Fenris girls...you betcha. I'll check on Shadow World Fenris, Home World Bitches, touch base with Hitoshi and then I'll call you and Alex," Evie rattles off her to-do list. "You guys take care of yourselves, okay? Be safe."

After saying good-bye, Evie settles into the Vantage once more, turning her attention to Shadow World Fenris and Loki. Hopefully, whatever they are currently doing will offer some kind of insight that will be helpful to the home team...

_We all have our roles to play_," Hel said.

"Oh, yes. Yes, we do," Loki/Malcolm smiled. He takes a rough piece of metal from his pocket, little more than a piece of shrapnel. But, somehow, you recognize this as the relic that unlocks the gifts for this reality's Alex North.

Except it's broken. Damaged. Compromised. Whether by Loki's craft or Hel's machinations. Alex, in this world, is beholden to Loki. An ally of necessity, but not of shared ideology - and that makes him expendable. A loose end to be clipped when all is said and done ...

_Well, crap. Let's see what Shadow World Alex is up to. Perhaps he can be persuaded to help if Hitoshi makes it abundantly clear that he is already probably going to be eliminated. He's still Alex, at his core._

Another thought occurs to Evie. Hitoshi's sword is broken. She's not 100% certain that it is a gift from his father but she'd be willing to bet money that it is. If it is broken, does that mean that Shadow World Hitoshi was also being pressured before their Hitoshi showed up? Could the job offer simply be the formal, public acknowledgement of an agreement that was already formed earlier?

_Shit. I need to tell Hitoshi about that..._

(Evie)

You see papers. Maps, figures, charts. Wind direction, population figures ... casualty projections?

"Make sure our people have their MOPP gear checked and ready-to-go," Colonel North says. "We're on the clock."

"Sir?" a junior officer says "We're really going to drop bombs on our own people?"

"You're _thinking_ again, Lieutenant."

"Sir. Sorry, Sir. I know the Break is a significant threat, but there must be another way!"

"Son, soldiers throughout history have asked that question. Of course there's another way - if you're willing to roll the dice. The Break isn't getting better, it's getting worse," North told the younger man. "The Maenads are pushing across the line. CDC has identified three strains of that goddamned shit they carry. We're running out of choices."

"Sir. Yes, Sir. I understand. MOPP gear on standby."

"Get it done."

The Vantage wavers.

You are looking at a sumptuous dinner for two.  
Well, beyond sumptuous. It's almost surreal, with place settings in gold, a goblet or chalice instead of a wine glass. Roast beef, rare and bloody. Fresh bread, root vegetables, roast chicken, and more.

_The battle is never over. To my side, I summon thee, Hauptmann Alaric Krieger, Warrior of Valhalla, to fight in my name to the further glory of the gods._

There is a flare of light. Where there had been no one a moment before, there is now a man dressed in a steel gray uniform. A vintage Nazi uniform from World War II. The man has close cropped blonde hair, ice blue eyes, and several days' stubble on his jaw.

"Summoned to the Victorious Table, I have come," he says.

A woman slinks forward out of the shadows. She is dressed in a fanciful white gown (well, if you can call it that - it's a leggy, cleavage-showcasing wisp of fabric), with a fur-trimmed cloak.  
"Welcome, Hauptmann Krieger," she says. "Feast, and we shall speak of the service I require."  
It's Soleil Hunter.  
"For which there are more rewards than food and drink," purrs another voice in the man's ear. Another woman, sleek and feral, brunette where Soleil Hunter is blonde. Dressed in a similarly scandalous (ludicrous, for anything but melodramatic films about Vikings) manner.  
Oh. It's _her._ "Hottie" - Selene Chase.

Krieger gives an appropriately wolfish smile and sets to the meal.

The Vantage wavers again.

An ingot of steel, branded with a Japanese crest. Then ... fire. Burning coals. The sound of a hammer. A bright curve of metal. A stroke of damp clay and a cascade of water. Honing. Polishing. Burnished metal being slid into a scabbard ...  
"The game begins in earnest," a stern voice says.

_Ha! Finally, some good news!_ Evie inwardly does a happy, little jig. That had to have been Hitoshi's sword. His father must be reforging it for him!_Granted, the rest of the news was shit but...yeah, good things!_

Evie stands at the Vantage, looking out over the bridge for a second. She has no idea what Hitoshi will do. How will he handle this? Regardless, at some point, things are going to get ugly. If he resists Fenris' urges to do...whatever...then he's going to push back. And that will mean leaning on Hitoshi's family.

She looks over her shoulder at Heimdall, still standing vigil just behind her. She turns and asks, "Dad..."

_Dad._ It's strange. The more time she spends in Asgard and with Heimdall, the closer she feels to him. Even though the time spent here is minuscule compared to that growing up in Vegas, there is still an undeniable and strong connection to her divine parent.

"...would it be possible for us to bring Hitoshi's family here, to Asgard? I know that moving them would immediately alert the others that something is amiss and they would act. But, I'm thinking...if Hitoshi has a plan and knows when he will act on it, then we could extract his family and, hopefully, keep them safe. That would free Hitoshi to do what he needs to do without worry. It would have to be timed perfectly, at the exact moment that Hitoshi does whatever he is going to do, so that Fenris and Loki do not have forewarning."

"Hitoshi is going to have to make some hard choices," Lya sighs. "I just hope he makes the right ones. Keep in touch and let me know what the Fenris girls are doing... in the meantime I'll meet up with Alex and we'll see what we can do about making Selene Chase's life more distracting. Take care of yourself and watch your back... even your Dad is beholden to Odin when he lays down the law."

With that Lya pockets her phone and looks to the others. "OK Ramblers, time to get rambling. Let's get Rikke to her new home."

(Evie)

Heimdall frowns. "No. Your friend is at a critical nexus. And although Loki and Fenris have their meddlesome fingers in the pie, I cannot act to change Ryder's decision. It must be his own, or we are no better than the Frost Giants.  
"It is, in fact, something he has lamented - how to be honorable when confronted with enemies who are not. If he cannot make the choice, he cannot answer his own question."

Mimir's prediction - that you will fail to protect someone - rings in your ears. And yet, that reality is a twisted product from the outset, a conflux of things that are, that might be, and which have not yet come to pass.  
But you're finding it hard to reconcile with the notion of leaving Hitoshi to meet his fate in another reality, alone.

Evie tilts her head, frowning at her father in turn. Her brows furrow and she crosses her arms as she regards him. It's probably an expression that he's seen from her countless times in the past.

"But, what I am proposing is just as dangerous as doing nothing. It's not like I would be sweeping his family away and...ta-da!...no decision need be made," she says.

"If I were to miss-time the extraction, I could bring the whole thing crashing down on Hitoshi's head. He might fail at his quest because the hand has been tipped too early. Or, I may not even be able to get his family out! I don't know who the dead-looking lady in the kimono is, but she has her hands firmly upon those two. To try and take them could spell disaster."

"What I would be offering him is simply another choice. Does he risk keeping his family by his side the whole time, or does he risk trying to get them to safety, when success is not guaranteed?"

"I forget that you do not have the same experience," Heimdall says. "Hitoshi's ... situation ... is not entirely of his own making, but neither can it be made _better_ by what you propose. The Lord of Nets, his father, has a say in things. The Lady of Shadows, Izanami, as well. Both are from his own divine family, and to meddle with their affairs is unwise, even if we do not approve."

"Ah," Evie nods sadly. She sighs, but accepts that answer. "No stepping on toes, then."

_Sorry, Hitoshi. I wanted to help..._ No sense pushing Heimdall too hard about this. If he won't help, he won't help and irritating him wouldn't be wise. He may be her father, but parents have no problem disciplining their children if they step out of line.

She shrugs and grins, though the expression still holds a touch of disappointment, "I guess I'll just have to limit myself to stomping on my own family's toes, then."

"Speaking of family, I should check on mine. If Fenris and Loki figure out that I'm not with Alex and Lya, they might try something to draw me out, if they assume that I'm still alive. As far as they know, I could've died in Castle World when the fortress was destroyed," she turns back to the Vantage to take a quick peek at her parents, brothers and Saul.

(Evie)

_ There's a moment we all come to  
In our own time, and our own space  
Where all that we've done, we can undo  
If our heart's in the right place!_

You smile as Saul belts out Garth Brooks' _When You Come Back to Me Again_ in his strong tenor voice. He's on patrol. It gives you a strange guardian angel feeling to be watching him.

The cruiser pulls up at a familiar parking lot, and he gets out. Ahn's Burgers looks like a dive. Greasy burgers and heart attacks to go. But the Korean owner knows his trade. Ahn's is just one notch short of being a 'cop hangout' - the local kids and some of the gangs will loiter, but they generally behave.

His usual straight-up cheeseburger to go with an iced tea, unsweetened, and a bottle of water on the side. He's at the window and back to his cruiser in minutes.

_Fighting to survive in a war with the darkest powers!_

The stereo at the bar is pounding out Queen's _Princes of the Universe,_ and Ricky is tossing a highball glass from hand to hand, rolling it down one arm as his other hand grabs the dispenser and hits it with a burst of club soda. It's a bit of cocktail showmanship that most bartenders in Vegas have down.

"Yo, Freddie! Turn that down a bit?" shouts the owner, laughing.

"Yeah, sorry."

A moment later, Saul walks in and plops down at the bar, taking his lunch out of the bag. Ricky simply looks at him and shakes his head - no, I haven't seen her.  
You.

_You guys,_ you smile wistfully.

Evie continues to watch Ricky and Saul for just a moment longer, enjoying this small moment of normalcy. _I promise, guys...I'll be home as soon as I can,_ she thinks. A small twinge of guilt at causing them to worry tweaks her conscience but she pushes it aside. There's no help for it. All she can do is try to set things right as quickly as possible. She can explain it all if the team manages to stop Fenris and Loki. If not, well...it won't much matter.

Her vision lingers before she pulls the Vantage to another place. "So, we know what the bitches are up to and that Fenris is busy inserting himself into Holliwell's shoes...what are you doing, Laufeyson? Surely, you're busy, too..."

(Evie)

The transition is jarring. Loki is ... somewhere. A dimly-lit room. Justin Holliwell is standing there, eyes blank.

"Good Morning, Senator," Loki says quietly.

"Good Morning!" Holliwell says. "Love to chat, but I've got a committee meeting in ten."

Loki gestures, and a woman's voice filters through the air. "Senator! Any reaction to the China situation?"

"I've been in some privileged discussions with the President and Secretary of State," he smiles. "All I'm going to say is that all options are on the table. China has some serious choices to make."

"Is it ready?" asks someone else. Fenris.

"Almost," Loki smiled. "The deep illusion will do most of the work. You'll supply the physicality, and can direct affairs as necessary, but you won't have to worry about sounding like Holliwell, or not fitting in, thanks to your conversations with the good Senator."

"Good. The sooner I can toss him in the oubliette, the better." 

(Evie)

Unbidden, the Vantage tears from Loki and Fenris to Hitoshi's suite.

The place is a mess. Papers are strewn about, furniture askew. Hitoshi is picking himself up from the floor, his shoulders clearly bunched in rising anger. His wife is nearby, slumped against a toppled chair, her hair in disarray.

She is sobbing. A mournful sound of deep loss and regret. And, perhaps, more than a little pain.

"You must hate me," she says, quietly, her voice halting and fragile.

_What happened_? you wonder. Did Fenris attack them at home, of all places? A bold move that says many things, not the least of which that the kid gloves are off.  
There must be more, but you are torn between watching it unfold and rejoining Lya and Alex.

"It can be painful," Heimdall says quietly. "Knowing something is wrong, and being unable to say or do anything. Your friend must walk his own path, Evelyn."

As Evie watches, her heart breaks for her friend. She and Hitoshi don't always see eye to eye. They have often sniped at each other. But, that doesn't mean that she doesn't love him just as much as she does Lya and Alex. He's still her friend, and a dear one, at that. Seeing his happiness being crushed, his emotions toyed with, smacks of a cruelty that makes her temper flare.

She doesn't know exactly who is responsible for this attack. Fenris? Loki? Could it even be Izanami, who she had seen with Loki, earlier. It doesn't matter, at this point. They have all earned her ire.

"I know I can't go to him," she practically snarls in return. But, it's not Heimdall who has made her angry. It's this whole situation. Poor Hitoshi being put through some test by his family. Fenris and Loki trying to bring about Ragnarok. Fucking cats in boxes.

Evie stops, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She sits down and then flops back onto the floor, spreading her arms out and stretching her back. Again, it is something that Heimdall has likely seen her do countless times.

_Breathe. In, out. Calm down. You're not going to be any help to anyone in this state. Breathe. In, out. Slowly,_ Evie focuses her mind on her body, the thump of her heart, muscles relaxing.

"Sorry I snapped," she says after a couple of minutes. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just...extremely frustrated."

Evie sits up, crossing her legs under herself. She gazes up at Heimdall from where she sits, "Surely, I can at least call Hitoshi? He needs to be warned about what Shadow Alex is about to do. After that, I'll go back to Lya and Alex."


	41. Making Plans For the End of the World

(Lya)

The culvert appears to be gated off, and signs bear Serious Warnings about trespassing, but trying to keep people out is a losing battle. There are too many entrance points to keep an effective watch over all of them.

There's a heavy-duty magnet at the base of the gate - enough to maintain the illusion that the gate is closed and locked, easy enough for someone to remove and replace.

You hear some natural but - to your ears and affinity for Chaos - out of place sounds. Sentries, perhaps?

Why not? Arky admitted he'd had similar visions, and Loki's Snow Fort had blasted a chunk out of Arky's old turf. Caution wasn't entirely uncalled for.

"Lya?" calls a voice from the shadows. Arky's girlfriend, Tawny. "This way. Arky's waiting."

You note several camouflaged wireless cameras, all placed near tableaus that would draw a casual visitor's interest.

"Been having problems?"

"District Attorney's Anti-Gang Task Force has been nosing around. We just go dark, kind of like London during the Blitz," she says. "But Arky seems more edgy than usual. Something's bothering him, and I can't make it go away."

"Yeah... it's the end of the world and we're all feeling a bit less than fine these days," Lya replies as Klepto ushers a figure dressed in a raised hoodie and sweatpants forward and the other Furies turn to tensely watch the area in a half circle around them. "This is our friend Rikke that I personally vouch for; she's needing a place to stay hidden away from her controlling family, Tawny. We figured if anyone would understand it would be you guys."

"Greetings," Rikke says tentatively. "I am grateful for you letting me into your home."

She gnaws on her bottom lip. "Is Arky available to talk? There's some shit going down out there that he's right to be concerned about, and I want to give him the heads up."

"Right here," Arky says, coming out of the darkness. "Sorry. I haven't been sleeping well ... funky dreams."

"Ah. I understand," Rikke says. "You are another seer."

Arky nods, smiling. "It's a gift and a joy most of the time. You're not one of us. Aesir?"

Rikke smiles. "I am. Lya and the others freed my father from his prison as the All-Father's oracle, and feared that I might be held captive in his place."

"Do you read the runes?" Tawny asked. "I'd love to learn them."

"Wait. Is this a _community_ of seers?" Rikke asked.

"It's a community of social outcasts, actually," Arky says. "Folks who don't do well under all the rules and such imposed by the powerful. We're not into tearing things up or pulling things down - just for being left alone."

"Such is the way of things across the Nine Worlds."

"Be welcome," Arky says. "Tawny will find you a spot to crash and let you know about food and other essentials."

He turns to Lya. "Let's walk. Most of the people down here know I'm a bit of an oracle, but they think I read horoscopes and tarot cards. If you want to talk business, we can go for a stroll."

Lya smiles at Rikke. "You're in good hands here, and Arky has the way to contact me if you _ever_ need anything, OK?"

Rikke nods and raises a hand to her heart. "I cannot thank you all enough for what you've done for me and my father. I only hope that you can get them to listen before it's too late." She nods in respect to everyone and turns with a wave from Tawny as they make their way down the tunnel to her new home.

Lya turns to the Furies. "You guys act casual while Arky and I have a talk, OK? I won't leave your sight, I swear," she chuckles as Toxic points to her eye and then back to Lya.

She then turns to Arky and runs a hand over her scalp as she lets out a sigh. "We've definitely got to talk... there's some heavy Aesir shit going down and I might've put my foot in it when I discovered that Odin's as purposely bad as the church when it comes to vision interpretations."

Arky gives a weak smile. "It's not the Oracle's fault if the querent doesn't want to listen. But that hasn't stopped politicians and leaders throughout history from blaming it on them."

"Let's compare notes," he says. "I've had dreams about tidal waves, flood waters roiling just ahead. But it's always outside a window. The wave never breaks, the waters never crash down upon me. Slot machines, dials whirling, and whoever is working the handle is doing so as fast as they can. But the line shows grapes, a Viking helmet, a star, a Japanese crest, and a pirate. The grapes, that's got to be you. The star could be me, I guess, but I don't know who or what the other symbols represent."

"Long story short," Lya replies, "The disaster outside the window is Ragnarok. The Aesir believe it's inevitable (even though it isn't) and Loki and Fenris have their hand on the slot machine trying to piece together a new reality where Ragnarok happens _their_ way. The grapes are me, the Japanese crest is Hitoshi, the helmet is Alex, the star is Evie ... but I don't know about the pirate, honestly, as it wasn't in my visions." she scratches her head. "Maybe Odin? He's got the eyepatch and all."

She shrugs. "What I _did_ see however was Hitoshi pulling the lever on a nuclear slot machine using coins labeled all the major countries. He 'won' and was rewarded with a false family before joining Soleil Hunter from the DA office (probably why that task force is cracking down honestly) as well as others. And unfortunately, from what Evie has told me, he's on his way to doing exactly that in another reality similar to ours."

She pulls out a flask and takes a drink before offering it to Arky. "After that we started dancing and you told me it probably wouldn't end well before I turned around and shot Jason Lyman aka Loki, but then he turned into Fenris, who is currently impersonating Senator Justin Holliwell in an attempt to bring about World War III."

She shakes the flask at him. "Go on... have a drink and then I'll tell you about how I found out Ragnarok is a lie thanks to the Chinese gods," Lya chuckles wryly.

Arky frowns. "That's disturbing. It suggests Fenris and Loki are looking for the right combination of _people_ rather than exact events. In my experience, however - you don't mess around with those kinds of things. It's your wish, but it's the Fates pulling the strings."

"Fate... what a crock," Lya mutters as she takes the flask back for another drink. "The Fates are keeping humanity in check by making us believe in pre-ordained futures... when really all they are showing us is _one_ future that tells us what _they_ want us to hear. They don't tell us that we have options... that we have the power to _choose_ our fate."

"If everyone would just take a step back and realize that Ragnarok is just one _possible_ future instead of the _only_ future, this whole mess would be moot," Lya groans. "Guan Yin herself showed me the truth of it: Odin interpreted the visions of the Mimir to suit his own purposes and convince his people that Ragnarok was inevitable... so now his people are stuck in some sick End of the World play because they don't think they have any choice."

She gestures wildly with her hands as she groans in frustration. "Loki is so_close_ to realizing the truth of it... but I think he's afraid! Honestly... who isn't a little bit afraid when they realize that their whole life is open to them if they'd just make a choice? They'd rather have the comfort of knowing that their path is laid out for them instead of knowing that we're personally responsible for everything that happens to ourselves."

She chuckles and smiles apologetically. "Sorry about dumping all this on you... but I needed to share with someone who understands what it's like, you know?"

Arky gives a short laugh. "Ironic, isn't it? We live in a City where people bet it all on the long shot of having money and the freedom it brings. Instead, what they really want is the opposite - a world where things are safe and predictable. They don't come to us to learn the future, they come to us to have someone validate their choices."

Lya lets out a dry laugh. "Tell me about it. What really sucks though is whether it's Ragnarok or not, that Doomsday Clock is still going to reach midnight if we personally don't do something about it."

She sighs and gestures back down the tunnel with her thumb. "Anyway... we need to get going to see if we can do our part to save the world and all that. Thanks again for Rikke, Arky. Keep your people safe and out of the way of the DA, and I'll do my best to make sure you've all got a world outside your door. Oh... and let me know if your visions change, would you? You've got my number."

"Stay safe, Cousin," he says. Something more like his usual indefatigable ebullience comes through in his smile.

* * *

Though they are in different parts of the city, at the moment, both Alex and Lya's phones tweet at them. A text has arrived. When they check, they see that it is a simple message from Evie. The words "bitches" and "Fenris/Loki/Holliwell" each followed by a set of coordinates.

It's only a couple of minutes after the text arrives that Lya's phone rings. It's exactly who she expected.

"Hey, what's up?" Lya asks, figuring that Evie has more details to share.

"Okay, I checked on the sisters for you. They are busy summoning einjehar. The coordinates I sent are where I saw them doing the summoning. It's the site of a swanky hotel, I think. Both sisters were there when I checked," Evie says. "I saw Soleil summon a Nazi soldier...one Hauptmann Krieger. I don't know if he's significant or just another body to add to their army, but I figured I'd best pass the name along, just in case."

"It also looks like Fenris and Loki are close to being ready to move with Hollliwell. Holliwell looked like he was under some spell or drug...all glassy-eyed and not-there. Loki was asking him questions about 'the China situation.' Holliwell told Loki that he'd had discussions with the President and Secretary of State and that China has serious choices to make," Evie continues.

"Fenris asked if 'it' was ready and Loki assured him that it is almost done. I think Loki was speaking of the enchantment that he'll put on Fenris. He said that 'the deep illusion' will do most of the work for Fenris, so others won't know that it's not Holliwell. And, it sounds like they are going to imprison Holliwell when they are done with him. Fenris talked about throwing him in an oubliette rather than killing him."

Alex calls up his navigation app and pastes in the coordinates Evie provided. They resolve to a very nice condominium complex that Alex recognizes - it's where Chris Clemens and Soleil Hunter both live. Gated, private security in the lobby.

At the same time, they should both be away at their day jobs - in the office, or in court.

Hell. Meet up with Lya and the Furies, first. Storm the castle, second.

"The clock is obviously ticking then," Lya replies as she walks back to the van with the Furies. "They actually summoned a single Einherjar with a name, eh?" The phone is muffled for a moment but you can hear the faint muttering of "Hey Phoebe... you've got your phone on you... see if you can look up anything special about a Nazi soldier named Hauptmann Krieger."

"Sorry about that. Anyway... yeah... it sounds like Fenris and Loki are getting ready for their endgame. We're going to meet Alex and then it's a quick stop at the Grandview to try and keep Selene Chase and Douglas Maxwell distracted before we try our rescue mission. You going to make it back anytime soon? As useful as your view is, we wouldn't want to do this without you, Evie."

"I'll be back, soon," Evie says. "I don't know that there's much more I can glean from here without waiting for a long time. Besides, I...uhh...don't think I want to hang out too long."

"I have some more news for Hitoshi, too. Apparently, Shadow Alex is about to drop a bomb on half of Vegas...I think it has something to do with the Shadow Lya. Hitoshi mentioned that you're an eco-terrorist, there. Apparently, Shadow Lya and her maenads are spreading some sort of disease..."

"Oh, but...!" Evie's voice changes, filled with delight, "I also saw what I think was Hitoshi's father reforging his sword. In Shadow World, Hitoshi's sword is broken so...if it's being remade...that has to be good, right?"

"Wow...I'm an eco-terrorist with a bunch of crazy bitches trying to start a war, huh?" Lya replies in wonderment before there's a thud and the exclamation of "Ow! I'm just repeating what she said, dammit!"

"Alex is going to drop a bomb on Las Vegas and Hitoshi is on the verge of becoming the Secretary of Defense. Damn... that's not good at all, Evie. I mean... I take small comfort in knowing that if I started a war it would take nuclear weapons to stop me... (quit it, Toxic!)... but if Fenris is President over there and he's got Alex under his thumb and ready to drop the bomb, then I'm betting that leaves Hitoshi to take the blame for it... or worse. All they'd need to do is anchor that reality to this one and BAM! No more Las Vegas."

She sighs as Klepto starts the van and they drive toward the Soul Food Cafe to meet with their reality's Alex. "You told the bit about Alex and the bomb to Hitoshi, right? I don't know if he can stop the bomb or not... but if he can't, it's up to him to find and stop them before they try and anchor it here. I certainly hope the sword being reforged means Hitoshi's finally figured himself out... for all our sakes."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Evie can't help but stifle a giggle at the sound of one of the band mates obviously taking offense at what was said. However, her merriment dies a swift death as conversation flows back to the problem at hand.

"No, I haven't told him, yet. I was going to call him as soon as I hung up with you. After that, I need to make my decision about where to go: do I come back to you or do I try to help Hitoshi?" she runs a hand through her hair and paces a bit as she talks. "I just don't know how much use I'll be to Hitoshi in that reality. I'm a cab driver, there. I might have some resources but...not nearly what I have as a police detective."

"Besides, I had a conversation about Hitoshi with Heimdall. I think a lot of what is happening to him in Shadow World is a test from his own family. I probably don't want to place myself in the middle of that."

"So, I'm leaning heavily towards coming back to you and Alex once I've talked to Hitoshi."

"I'm starting to think that Hitoshi is the only one who can save himself right now," Lya agrees worriedly. "Besides... if we're going to do this rescue, we're going to need all the help we can get. Not only is there Fenris and Loki to worry about... but the Fenris bitches and Douglas Maxwell, as well as anybody else who might be scions and a whole slew of einherjar they could have at the ready."

"Captain Nazi?" Phoebe mutters as she looks up Krieger on the Internet. "Well that can't be right, unless the Nazis created a genetic Super Soldier like Captain America..."

"Told you we were super heroes," Lya chuckles from the passenger seat as she covers up the receiver of her phone for a moment.

"Alright. Let me give Hitoshi a call and, as soon as I am done, I'll join you. It shouldn't take me long. I'll pop by home, real quick, to change clothes and then meet you at Soul Food. Sound good?"

"We'll make sure to save you some pie," Lya replies. "Be safe, and we'll see you there."

* * *

(Lya)

You pull up to the parking lot at the Soul Food Diner. There's a car with a rental company license plate frame, which must belong to Alex, and an ambulance. You run into TJ as he comes out of the diner, responding to his radio. "EMT-Five copies," he says. "ETA ten minutes." He flashes a quick smile. "Oh, hi, Lya. Gotta jet," he says. "Alex and Val are still rockin' the goodbye kiss thing."

He jogs off towards the ambulance. A moment later, Val comes out of the diner. She's not running, but she's moving with a purposeful stride that you've seen often enough from the Furies. "Hello, Lya," she says in passing. Alex is standing just inside. He's smiling, for obvious reasons. He's also sporting a new polo shirt and jeans ... but also an incongruous black neck scarf.

"There you are. I got a te-"

"- xt from Evie?" you finish. "I know. She may join us in a bit. I hate to sound all dah-dah-dummmmmmm!, but there's some serious shit going down, and pretty much all of it is bad," you say.

The Furies have already glommed onto one of the corner booths. "And it's past the cats and dogs sleeping together part," Klepto smirks.

"Oh and don't think I'm not going to ask about your new ascot there dude," Lya chuckles before smiling at Maggie who quickly walks up to their table.

"I was wondering if we'd see you all again... another round of the usual?"

Lya looks around at the nods from the Furies and replies with "Extra strong pot of coffee and pie all around, Maggs."

She motions for Alex to pull up a chair as she begins to recite what Evie shared from the Vantage. "It sounds like Loki might've gotten to the Alex in Hitoshi's world...and if Fenris is already President there and Hitoshi's on his way to becoming SecDef, I'm starting to wonder if we can even stop the destruction there, much as I hate to say it."

She sighs. "A part of me still wants to go back to Castle World so I understand... but we have to remember where we're from... and that our world needs help just as much as theirs does. I can only hope that Hitoshi remembers that and comes home to where he belongs before it's too late."

Maggie comes by with the pot of coffee and sets down multiple mugs along with a bowl of creamers. "Pie'll be just a minute, hon."

"Sweet mana... come to me, my pretty," Orithia mutters as she begins pouring cups and passing them around.

"Anyway," Lya continues. "On the plus side, I think Rikke will be OK with Arky... which means now we can focus on the Fenris bitches and saving Holliwell before Fenris has his way with him."

"Don't forget Captain Nazi," Phoebe adds as she reaches for some creamers.

"Captain who now?" Alex asks with a laugh.

"Evie saw the Fenris girls summoning an einherjar... but just a single one this time named Hauptman Krieger," Lya replies. "When she looked him up all she could find was a Nazi super-villain from the comics, though." She takes a sip of her coffee. "Still... if they went to the trouble of summoning just one, there's a good chance he's there for a singular purpose."

"The assassination you saw," says Toxic grimly.

"That's my guess," Lya replies. "Which means they're getting ready for their endgame, so we need to make our move."

"Holliwell?" asks Alex.

Lya nods. "I think it'll be worth our time to throw a wrench in the works to distract them first, though." She brings up the photos on her phone that she took of Senator Malcolm and friends back in Castle World and slides it over to Alex. "And I am thinking these will do the trick nicely."

"Hauptmann Krieger," Alex says. He fiddles with his smartphone. "Did you get a first name? Alaric?"

"That's it," you say. "How did ...? Wait. I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"One of the top snipers in World War II," Alex says. "Arguably one of the best German snipers. There are better ones, but they're mostly Russians."

"So Fenris replaces Holliwell. You don't need a sniper for that," Phoebe says. "Hit the current president, and the fake Senator takes his place."

"It'd be more convoluted than that. Chain of command is POTUS, Veep, Speaker of the House," Alex says.

"And that's Loki, who smiles and steps down in favor of his buddy Senator Holliwell," Orithia frowns. "And I thought politics were twisted back in ancient Greece."

"And what's these ... photos ... oh. _Oh,_" says Alex. "There's nothing technically wrong with having sex, though the ranking-officer-who-likes-to-watch runs afoul of the UCMJ. I'm missing something. This is one of Fenris' daughters?"

He slaps his forehead. "Of course. Two of them. Soleil Hunter and ...?"

"Selene Chase," Lya replies with a grin like the cat who ate the canary. "She and Douglas Maxwell are both on the board at the Grandview... so if these photos were to say... end up in emails sent to every news reporter we can find before being prominently displayed along with my letter from Hitoshi in my prospectus to the company as the new CEO of the Grandview... Selene Chase, Bob Malcolm, Douglas Maxwell and the Colonel there might find themselves too busy answering questions as to why a Senator close to the President and two members of the board are having clandestine sex parties while attempting to set up someone to impersonate a Colonel with access to military secrets. With any luck a scandal around Malcolm will flourish in D.C."

She sits back and cradles her coffee with a smile. "Throw in the attempt to assassinate you in front of the hotel and I'm sure it wouldn't take much to convince the rest of the board that the letter Hitoshi left would be an excellent opportunity to get rid of everyone involved (aka Selene and Douglas) and try to save the hotel's reputation with a fresh new CEO who has a reputation as a good Samaritan and philanthropist in Las Vegas."

She grins and takes a drink as Orithia whistles in appreciation.

"Oh, I like the tie-in to the shooting," Alex said. "When were you thinking of doing this? Is the board local? I'm not a corporate lawyer, but I can stand in your corner and look all legal eagle-ish."

* * *

Evie arrives back in her apartment. It is just as she left it. The sofa is still a giant mess, there are conspicuous gaps between knick-knacks where things were broken and there are still bloodstains in her bedroom.

She sighs and goes to her closet. Quickly shucking out of her Asgardian clothes, she pulls on jeans and one of her old, plain green T-shirts.

_This sucks. I didn't find what we needed. Nothing. There was nothing there_, she thinks bitterly as she folds up her Asgardian clothes and stashes them on the top shelf of the closet, among stacks of junk that she's forgotten she even had.

She had been so confident that she could find that cat-less reality. Part of her feels like she has failed the team. She couldn't help Hitoshi and she couldn't find the proof to show Odin or Loki the error in their thinking.

Evie stomps out into the hallway that separates her bathroom and bedroom. There is a loose baseboard, there, where she keeps a bit of emergency cash. She kicks the board a bit harder than is actually necessary, causing it to pop off the wall. She takes the money and stuffs it into her pocket, figuring that she may need it, at some point.

_No, you didn't fail,_ she thinks as she detours to the kitchen to grab a Coke._You warned Hitoshi. You saw valuable information that will help the team. You just didn't find exactly what you were looking for. It's not like this is the first time that has happened to you. You've had plenty of cases where the exact same thing has happened._

_True,_ she answers herself. _But the stakes were never so high, either._

She still doesn't feel any better about it.

Done at home, Evie heads out and climbs into her car. She makes the drive over to Soul Food and spots Lya's van. Not quite ready, yet, to be discovered back in town by her fellow officers, she looks around the small lot and spots two large SUVs with a space between them.

_Perfect,_ she slips in between them, her old Camry practically hidden between them. Not that anyone who wasn't looking would take notice, anyway. Her car is the epitome of boring. If it was one of those cars from that Dreamworks movie, it would be sitting in the corner doing a crossword puzzle while the rest were racing or partying or whatever.

Evie walks into Soul Food and immediately spots the crew sitting at a corner booth. Looking tired, she slips in beside them, "Hey. I take it Lya has filled you in, Alex?"

"I have a bad feeling about this," Alex says. "First, Loki tries to amass an army of summoned warriors _and_ filch a nuclear weapon, but to get them to Asgard, he needs to bridge the realities with some kind of mystical anchor. So wherever Hitoshi is, Loki is basically doing the same thing. It's not the_war_ we have to stop. We have to make sure he doesn't bridge it or tie it to_our_ world and Asgard."

"The war, the crisis, whatever it is - is a ... well, it's not quite a sham, but it's a distraction, a set-up."

"And that brings us back to the question of 'how does one even do that?" Evie asks as she reaches for a cup to pour herself some coffee.

"We know that Loki did it using you, before," she gestures to Alex. "But, why you? What is it about you that makes you a good anchor? Are there other people that could fill that need? Does it need to a child of Tyr? And, will Loki even be silly enough to try it again...from this reality?"

She takes the coffee and holds it close to her chest, thinking, "Surely, he wouldn't be stupid enough to do the exact, same thing in the exact same place. We know what happened in Castle World and will take measures to stop it."

"Glad to see you back, Evie," Lya acknowledges the tired cop with a smile. "What I'm worried about is what if all he needed was a Scion from our world to make an anchor?"

"Hitoshi..." Phoebe gasps.

"Yeah... something tells me that's why the Mimir said his returning would be the only way to set things back on track."

"Ah, fuck me," Evie puts her coffee on the table and her face in her hands. After a second, she lowers her hands and says, "I hope that Hitoshi can make it back, if it even occurs to him to try."

"I don't think there is any way for us to talk to him, at this point."

"I think it's 'any Scion' - and I was just a target of opportunity. Evie is a police officer and the daughter of Heimdall, who I imagine Loki wants to stay as far away from as he can get," Alex says. "Thomas, maybe he wanted to do this back then - the Cold War and the Red Scare were great opportunities ... but he fucked it up when Thomas' skull got bashed in."

"So either Hitoshi starts World War III or my alternate reality self does. Either one of them could be used as an anchor. What's left ... they don't care. All they want is to bring all of the nastiness of modern warfare right up to Asgard's front door."

He flags Maggie down and orders Rick's Southern-fried Catfish along with some garlic fries.

"The only way to save that timeline is to make sure the circumstances that make it possible don't happen. No President Holliwell. No Secretary of Defense Ryder. I'm not in the military, so that's something," Alex adds.

"And you have a nifty new scarf," Lya says pointedly.

"Um, yeah. Found it in my stuff. I'm not sure what it does, but it feels like a relic," Alex tells them, fingering the fabric. "I suppose I could always wrap it around my face and rob a bank, right?" He lifts one end of the scarf and flings it across the lower half of his face. Klepto and Toxic are both rising out of their seats, grabbing their utensils as makeshift weapons. Where Alex had been sitting, there is only a Grim Reaper-like figure, a hood falling over a skeletal visage. Skeletal hands fly up in a 'don't shoot' gesture, and you hear Alex's voice as if it were coming across a tinny, ancient speaker.

"Whoa, whoa! It's me! What the-?" he says. And then the grisly specter is gone, the scarf falling away from Alex's face.

"You ... changed," Evie said.

"Into what?"

"Death. You looked like the classic skeleton-in-a-shroud," Lya said. "All that's missing was a big-ass scythe. I mean, you even had that creepy hairs-on-your-arm standing up thing going."

"A present from Hel? I thought she was pissed off at you," Evie asked.

"So did I. Apparently, she's running her own game."

"She's Loki's daughter, technically. I don't know why she'd be helping you or us," Lya frowned. "Okay, food."

Talk flagged as other orders were placed. Alex ran out to the curb and bought the morning paper. At first glance, there was nothing amiss in the headlines.  
"... be making a sweep through the Western states on Tuesday, including stops in California and Nevada," Alex read aloud.

"The President?" Phoebe asked. Alex nodded.

"Game on," Orithia said.

Evie chews thoughtfully upon a bite of chicken and waffle before she speaks up, "So, what if we make the first move, here? We know where Krieger was summoned and they would have no reason to move him until it's time for him to attack. Heck, he'd stick out like a sore thumb if he were put in a position to interact with other people. Best to keep him hidden in one place until time for the hit."

She takes a sip of water before continuing, "What if we take Krieger out, first? What they don't know is that we know the exact location of the summoning and what Krieger looks like."

"Of course, we'd have to content with the bitches, most likely. I'm betting at least one of them will be around keeping Krieger...ummm..._happy,_" she trails off, the meaning clear. "They were pretty obvious in letting him know that all his hungers could be slated..."

"Krieger's like that berserker that attacked in the middle of Lya's show," Alex tells her. "An Einjehar, summoned from Valhalla and loyal to whomever summoned him. He'll fight for them until he is killed, whereupon his spirit returns to Valhalla. His skills will be just as fresh as they were in his prime, but I'd want to visit a gun range, or follow whatever rituals I observe before going on a mission. Some of the guys in Afghanistan were pretty superstitious in that regard."

"Based on your coordinates, Evie, they were at the condominium complex where Sunny lives. And the D.A. And maybe the other of Fenris' cubs."

"So, lots of people around. If we were to do it, it would have to be fast and quiet...or, as quiet as something like that could be. The good thing is that Krieger's body would disappear after death. Fenris' spawn...nope. We'd have bodies and a murder investigation," Evie's brow furrows as she thinks this through.

"Does the paper say exactly where the President will be going? Which cities? And where he plans on making speeches and shaking hands?" she asks. "Even if all we have are cities, we can do some sleuthing to find out where he plans on doing any Ra-Ra Rallies."

She takes another bite of chicken and tilts her head slightly, looking at the date on the newspaper that Alex holds. She's curious as to exactly how long they were gone. If it turns out that she needs to get resources from HQ for anything that they might do, she needs to come up with a good excuse as to where she's been and that will depend on how long she has been gone. Gone for a day? No big deal. She was exhausted after the break-in and fire, conked out afterward and slept like a log. Longer than that? That's going to take more creativity.

"Presidential visits are usually planned in advance," Alex says. "That includes whatever venues he's visiting and usually the local police and state troopers. There's got to be information in the open that won't get people asking questions."  
"Also, we've been ... away for a couple of days. I wouldn't put it past Loki to be so egotistical as to use the Westview, somehow. The President is either going to be there, or the sniper will be using it as his staging point. We need to find someone we can trust."

He mulls it over. "Oh, hell. The Country Club. Nice venue for a fundraising lunch, it's wide open. Soleil Hunter is a member. And, unless they pulled my membership when I left the DA's office, so am I."

Evie nods, "I can get details from HQ, I'm sure. They'll probably have details out, guarding routes and whatnot."

"A couple of days isn't too bad. I can make something up to explain my absence. And, since I'm officially on leave per the Chief until the investigation on the break-in at my place is settled, it's not like I would've been missing work," she leans back and thinks.

"Hey, Lya...can we say that you wrangled me into helping you with some last minute band stuff? I don't know...moving equipment or something?" she asks.

"I figure that it could've gone down like this: after the break-in, I can't sleep and you guys are still awake, so we hang out. I get the call about the fire. We all help with that. Officially, it was me who went in to look for Alex*. We can say I found him where he had tumbled down into the tunnels. Of course, he couldn't go back because...fire. So, he was looking for a way out. Get him out, hook back up with Lya, get Alex to his office. I crash at Lya's place because fuck going back to a bloodstained bedroom in an apartment with a door that no longer locks. My phone is dead, so I don't get any calls. I sleep a long time and then Lya asks me to help with stuff. So, I'm just now freed up and realize that I have not been getting phone calls. I am a terrible friend and sister who was inconsiderate and should be shot for making people worry."

"Sound plausible?" she asks. "I mean, it's more believable than 'went to alternate dimension, blew up a castle, visited Asgard and hung out on the Bifrost.'"

"How about you tumbled down the tunnel and got lost in the storm drains?" Alex said. "I was thinking I could plead spending the night at a nonexistent girlfriend's place."

"Nonexistent, right," Lya snickers. She makes a kiss-kiss sound.

"I don't want to use her name if it'd blow her cover," he said quietly.

"Don't _you_ start the protective older brother routine," Lya frowned. "She's a Valkyrie, one of Odin's shield maidens, Alex."

"You're right. It's still our task, though."

"If we take care of Krieger won't they just get someone else? It's not like he was the only good sniper in the past," Lya replies. "If we can save Holliwell and prove he's being impersonated, however, there will be no reason to assassinate anyone because they won't have anyone set up to take his place."

Maggie returns to the table with everyone's orders and a warm blueberry pie for the table. "Fresh out of the oven!"

Lya makes a drooling noise as she inhales the scent of the pie. "I've missed this so much!" She starts cutting pieces and dolling them out on plates. "Anyway," she continues after Maggie returns to the counter, "If I can get control of the Westview I should be able to find out if we were making any special arrangements for a presidential visit. If you need to use me as an alibi then no problem, Evie. I've had your back since we met." She winks and hands Evie a piece of pie.

"I only mentioned Krieger because he can be fought. Summoning a replacement would take time they don't have. The political circumstances would change," Alex says.

"Well, do we have time to get to Montana, pull a rescue and get back before the President arrives? There's no guarantee that, even if we do the rescue, that Fenris won't still assassinate the would leave a power vacuum that could still be taken advantage of. Holliwell isn't the VP, so he wouldn't be moving directly into office, anyway. There's probably someone else who would fit the bill just as well," Evie says.

"Well wouldn't we still need to rescue Holiwell anyway in order to prove that Fenris is a fake so we can stop his plans? If all they wanted was to kill the President they could've done it long ago. Chances are they won't do this if they can't end up on top when it's done. If we can rescue Holiwell and confront Fenris in his disguise before he knows that he needs to change his plans, we'll have him dead to rights, and having the real Holiwell on our side could get us some added firepower like the cops or secret service if we have to storm the steps of D.C. for the final battle."

"Oh, definitely! I'm not suggesting that we do one or the other. It's more a matter of 'what do we do first?" Evie clarifies.

"If we rescue Holliwell first, we're going to have to make sure we kill everyone guarding him. If word gets back to Fenris and Loki, all they have to do is slink back into the shadows for another 50 years and wait," Evie says, more thinking aloud than anything else.

"If we stop the assassination first, we tip our hand. Loki and Fenris know that we know the plan. But, they still don't know that we know where the real Holliwell is. How could we know? They just have to plan a new assassination and get a new sniper."

"Security's tighter than 'plan another hit,'" Alex says. "If there's someone on the inside feeding them information, Loki and Fenris can't pull the same trick that quickly without risking their source.

"Going after Holliwell is fine, but unless we stick by his side until everything is settled, we'll have no way of telling them apart. Whatever magic Loki is using is meant to be a perfect duplication of the real Justin Holliwell."

"And there has to be a reason things keep turning on Las Vegas."

"My other concern is that there's no getting to Montana and back in a snap. I'm not sure that Hrojar will want to help us, again, if Odin has figured out what we did. Remember, he said that any use of that bag would alert Odin. So, we'd be sending out a giant ping saying, 'here we are!' I don't know that we want to get his attention," Evie shakes her head. "So, unless we can find someone willing to fly us on a private plane or 'copter, we're looking at booking a commercial flight there and back."

"We could drive, but it's fifteen hours each way. I can handle that without needing to take a 'd have to leave pretty darned quick," Alex says. "And get a vehicle where some of us aren't crammed in the back. We'd also need space for Senator Holliwell on the way back."  
"If it were me, I wouldn't kill him right away. I'd find someplace where I could chain him to the wall and leave him out of the way for insurance. Maybe not forever, but at least until I'm sure my impersonation stunt will work."

"From what I saw, that's exactly what he's doing. Fenris mentioned 'throwing him in the oubliette,'" Evie says. "This is Fenris we're talking about, so I'm not entirely certain the oubliette was just an expression meaning to hide him away where he'll be forgotten or if they literally have an oubliette."

"Having been penned up for eons, I'd think Fenris wouldn't use the wrong term," Alex says. "Heck, if the President's appearance is a fundraiser, I'll buy the tickets. We'll just have to figure how to look ritzy and be ready to rock-and-roll when we need to."

"You're the cop who is used to hunting down criminals, Evie," Lya chuckles. "If you think we'd be better served going after the sniper then let's go after the sniper." she leans forward and grabs the coffee pot. "Without the Vantage, though... I guess it's down to police leg work to smoke out this Krieger guy?" She starts pouring another cup of coffee when an idea strikes her and she almost spills the coffee before setting down the pot excitedly. "Ooo... I know! How about we get a burner phone and call the FBI with a tip that some Neo-Nazi group led by someone claiming to be the decedent of the famous Nazi Alaric Kreiger has been saying they're going to kill the President Warner because of his Jewish heritage? That might make things a bit harder for them, at least."

"It'd at least shake things up," Alex agrees. "Once you do, I call Soleil Hunter up and ask her, point blank. Any surveillance of local calls would catch the reference and put some heat on her. Of course, if she names me, that could backfire big time."

"I wonder ..." he says, fingering the scarf. "I was able to see Thomas Cardinelli and Edward McCain. I wonder if I can track him because he's dead. Or maybe Valeria can, because he's called forth from Valhalla."

"Well, unless they've moved him, I know exactly where Krieger is," Evie says. "And they would really have no reason to move him until it's time to make the hit. Where he is now is comfortable and they can keep an eye on him."

She scratches at her cheek, thinking, "Everything is just happening so quickly. It's all bunched up together and I'm not certain what the best course of action would be."

"You're absolutely right, Lya, that getting Holliwell is important and it could stop Loki in his tracks. I'm just concerned about time. I want to be able to also stop the assassination, as well, and we'll be cutting it super close if we go to Montana," she furrows her brow. "No matter what, I'm not leaving him in an oubliette to rot. We're going to get him, one way or the other."

"So, let's see..." Evie starts listing off pros and cons. She doesn't want to make a decision for the team. This is something that they all need to agree upon. All of Lya's points have been valid and she doesn't want her friend to feel like she's being steamrolled.

"We stop the assassination first. That tips Loki and Fenris off that we knew about the hit and we know about their summoning. They can't know for sure that we know about Holliwell, but they could make that leap of intuition. In that case, Holliwell becomes useless to them and they'll most likely pump him for all the information they need (if they haven't gotten everything already) then kill him. They may get rid of their inside man, thinking they've been compromised. At any rate, we buy time."

She continues, "If we go to Montana, there's a good chance that we won't make it back in time to stop the assassination, considering that we are probably doing to hit some opposition that will slow us down. But, we have Holliwell. As you said, we then have proof of impersonation and can throw a major wrench into things. Again, we've bought ourselves time because I don't think that the local authorities are going to be able arrest and hold either Fenris or Loki. But, we've now left a power vacuum to be filled. While Holliwell is no longer a viable option, given time, Fenris and Loki can do much the same thing as before, just with a new person..."

Evie trails off for a minute, "...unless Holliwell is central to the whole thing. What if there is no one else that fits the bill? All of this has already played out in Hitoshi's world and it's going swimmingly. I think, given that, either option will work for our purposes."

She shakes her head and frowns, unhappy with that idea to some extent, "So, we could do either and it should stymie their plans. But, it means that there's a good chance that we'll have a death, either way: Warner or Holliwell."

"But, I think we have the best chance of saving both if we go get Holliwell, first."

"Fits the bill," Alex mutters. "Why Vegas? Both in the 1950's with Thomas, and now, with us. Why pick a city that has four Scions in it? I know our parents sowed their seed hither and yon, but we don't get our 'mutant abilities' when we turn thirteen. We have to be recognized, empowered. And, even then, it's a long way to the top."

"So why pick a city where there are empowered Scions? I mean, come on, you've a daughter of Heimdall and a son of Tyr, key figures in the legend. You have to figure Heimdall is watching out for Evie, and that my old man is keeping tabs on Larry Talbot."

"Evie, you said Hitoshi's stuck in an alternate version of Vegas. I know he's kind of indistinguishable from his hotel at times, he's just kind of there - but why not throw him into an alternate Japan? He 'rescued' his dead girlfriend and boom, he's in Vegas, when you could have kept him running around for decades fixing his past life and all the places it went off the rails. There's something specific to the here and now that factors into their plans. There has to be."

"Hmmm," Evie ponders. "That's a good question. Let's see what history can tell us."

She pulls out her phone and starts doing some searches about the founding of Vegas, what the land was before it was built upon and prominent figures in the city's history. There's no guarantee that there will be anything there that stands out, but it's a starting point.

"Grrrrr," Evie gives a restrained snarl of frustration. "Nothing."  
"Come on, we can narrow it down. McCain was a jotunblut thrall, so he had a normal lifespan," Alex said. "Whatever they had planned was within his life span. And killing Thomas Cardinelli screwed everything up, because whatever they needed him for also needed him to be alive. So look around the time of Thomas' death. And, if we can, we need to ask if he had any other scions as allies, or if he was on his own."

"For that, we can probably ask Thomas himself, if he's still hanging around," Evie says absently as she starts typing in some new terms into Google, trying to find something that they don't already know about that time: prominent political figures, new structures being built, unexplained accidents...that sort of thing. "Or, I can call his brother and have a chat about who Thomas was close to. His brother knew something big and supernatural was afoot."

It's a wry sort of parable for modern times, with each of you turning to your smartphones to access data across the internet. Well, at least the internet doesn't demand you hang on the Summer Tree for three days, or sacrifice an eye.

"Hmm. Nellis AFB received its present name in 1950, so that's a wash," Alex says. "But it's currently the home to the US Air Warfare Center. If the President is visiting, he'd probably fly into Nellis rather than McCarran."

"If Krieger is meant to be an assassin, then the hit needs to be somewhere the President is in the open."

"I bet HQ has been alerted to where Warner will be and what routes he'll take. I can make some calls and find out," she pauses, looking up from her phone. She makes a sound between a sigh and a 'hmmph, "...which means I'm going to have to make a couple of _other_ phone calls and take my take my ass-chewing like a woman."

"So, as far as Thomas, do you want me to try and find him or do you want to do that, Alex? From the nature of your latest gift, I'm guessing you might be better suited to finding him," she nods towards the black scarf.

"I'm not sure that'll do the trick, but he said he tended to be in places that were significant in his life. At the very least, I can visit his grave and find him there," Alex said. "You get the skinny on the president's visit."

"Oy. Okay, let me take care of something, first, and then I'll call HQ. Excuse me," Evie gets up and moves to an empty table nearby so that she doesn't disturb Lya and Alex as they continue to talk. After all, nothing has been decided yet. Right now, everyone is still gathering information before making the final call.

* * *

Evie stares at her phone and mulls over what she's going to say. Softly, she chuckles to herself. For Saul, she's only been missing a couple of days. To her,  
she's been gone a week or more. Maybe. To the best of her knowledge. (Honestly, she's lost track of time with all the shuttling between times and places and trying to keep straight what she saw in the Vantage.) At any rate, it feels much longer.

If she is going to be able to move around Vegas again and get things done, she can't hide. She's too much a of fixture in the community. Too many people know her, recognize her. And, she certainly can't make a call to HQ and ask about the President anonymously!

Taking a deep breath, she dials Saul's number. The phone barely gets through a single ring.

"Evie! Where have you been?" Saul's voice immediately answers, filled with concern.

"Hey! Hey...yeah...look, sorry I didn't call, earlier..." Evie starts to say, leaning back in her chair.

However, Saul interrupts, not letting her go on, "The guys told me about the break-in at your place. And then you go to the fire and just disappear. What's going on?"

Evie laughs softly, "I just...oh, geez, Saul. It has been a hell of a couple of days. I was so exhausted after the fire that I pretty much collapsed. I hadn't gotten any sleep in over a day, at that point."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Saul asks. He knows that she had been fine after the break-in, but no one saw her leave the scene of the fire.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

There is a long sigh on the other end of the phone and she can imagine him finally relaxing. However, she knows that's just the calm before the tirade. She's only ever been on the receiving end of one of his rants a handful of times, and she fully expects this to be one of them.

Evie is not disappointed.

"What the hell were you thinking, going into the fire like that?! You're not a fireman. You're not trained for that kind of thing. You could've been killed!" Saul's voice starts out low but starts to rise as he continues. Evie sincerely hopes that he's not at HQ. "I mean, I know you want to help everyone, Evie. I know you do. It's just who you are. But, you can't do everything yourself! You need to let those who are professionally trained take care of this kind of thing!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Saul. I'm sorry that I worried you," she speaks softly, trying to calm him down. Evie knows that this will pass. Saul simply doesn't have it in him to stay angry for long and, she knows that he's not even really, truly angry. (She's seen that when he dealt with Deb's ex-husband. This is not that!) This is simply him letting go of the fear that she had been lost in some tunnel, somewhere, and him feeling helpless. When he had carried her out of the desert, he had been actively doing something about the situation. Having to sit and wonder, not knowing...that's an entirely different situation.

Still, knowing that he will get over it, soon, doesn't make her feel any less bad for making him feel that way, despite the fact that she hadn't planned to disappear. She truly feels terrible about it all.

There is a long pause, followed by a sigh, "You..gah...I can't decide whether I want to punch you or kiss you next time I see you."

"I vote for kisses! But, you know...that's just me," she chuckles. "Punches are full of hurtiness."

"Heh," Saul sounds like he's starting to calm down a touch. "So, did you find Mr. North?"

"Yeah. He had tumbled down into the tunnels. But, since he couldn't go back up because of the fire and he figured that no one would be looking for him, he tried to find his way out with no light or map. It wasn't going so well for him."

"I imagine not!"

"He wasn't hurt so we dropped him off by his office after everything was done. He said that his girlfriend would come pick him up. After that, I was so tired that I asked Lya if I could crash at her place, since we had been hanging out before the fire and she was my ride to the scene. I fell asleep and...I just woke up. I missed your calls. I'm sorry!" Evie apologizes again.

"I'm just glad you're safe. And, don't you ever do anything that stupid or reckless again!" Saul says sternly. It sounds strange to have Saul, usually so upbeat, to sound like this.

She says warmly, "Look, I'll make it up to you. How about I run you through a solo adventure, sometime?"

"I can take anyone I want?" Saul asks. She can practically hear the smirk over the phone. He's already letting it go. She's safe and all is well.

"Oh, gawds," Evie groans and lays her head against her hand. "Yes. Anyone. I will think of something to run Stevie Vunderbard and his Magical Goat through." She laughs at his whoop of triumph through the phone.

"Okay, you be safe, then. I..." there is another long pause before Saul finally continues. "I'll see you later. Call me tonight."

"As you wish," Evie replies with a soft smile. "Talk to you tonight, then."

After she finishes with her call to Saul, Evie places another call to Ricky, giving him the same explanation. There are a lot of "I'm sorries" interspersed with some good-natured picking between the siblings. Thankfully, Saul and Ricky kept her absence to themselves for the time being and did not inform her parents or Ian. They figured it was best to give it a little time before worrying them.

Once that is done, she calls HQ. The plan is to find out the President's travel routes, which will include any public stops. If anyone asks why she's inquiring, she has a simple explanation. Even though Evie's officially off-duty, at the moment, it can't hurt to have every available person keeping an eye on things that day, could it?

* * *

Lya leans back in the booth with her coffee as she ponders and Phoebe speaks up. "Well... what if it's not history... what if it's like a place where all the ley lines cross?"

"Like Stonehenge or something?" asks Toxic as Phoebe nods. "Loki is a god of magic after all."

"Or like in Doctor Who where it's one of those 'fixed moments' where whatever happens here, _happens_ here," Lya tosses out when an idea crosses her mind as she sits up excitedly. "Ooo... what if... like... Las Vegas is in and of itself an anchor of sorts, eh?"

She grabs some creamers and stirs them into her coffee. "Every world we went to, the shit seemed to be going on in Vegas," she continued, "so making the assumption that the assassination might happen in Vegas, one has to wonder... why bother putting not just _two_ scions, but one of your daughters on the board of a hotel? We saw how they planned to use it in Castle World... so maybe they've got plans for it in this one." she gestures with her spoon. "Like a book repository or something."

She taps the table with her spoon. "I figure if we make a move on the hotel, we can kill a few birds with one stone. Not only will the rumors that should explode from this make Selene and Malcolm's lives difficult and throw a FBI shadow on anything they do, I should also have access to any special hotel arrangements that might need to be made for a Presidential visit. Toss in the fact that I'll bet my favorite microphone that Hitoshi has a jet or a helicopter somewhere for getting to Holiwell, and there you go."

"Speaking of hotels, though..." she taps her nose with the spoon and then gestures at everyone else with it. "Does anybody else think it's weird that Hitoshi's mom hasn't called anyone asking the whereabouts of her son?" She pulls out her phone and sets it on the table. "Not one message."

"Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," Alex mutters. "So you're saying we're some kind of temporal nexus? 'Spock, try to figure out where the next time breach will happen. Scotty, get the warp engines back online ...'"

"Wait. We have Hitoshi's office number, don't we? Do we call and start shaking things up?"

"Why not?" Lya shrugs. "No stranger than what we've dealt with already. Maybe we call and say that Hitoshi has returned and wants to speak to the board about some disturbing information he's discovered. That might get them all wondering..."

"I wonder if the keycards from the other Westview work in ours," Alex said. "That gives us access to the executive floors and Hitoshi's penthouse."

"I like your thinking, counselor," Lya chuckles. "Definitely worth a try anyway."

"All right," Lya says as she pushes her now empty pie plate away from her on the table. "So the girls and I are going to get us some respectable new duds and run over to the FedEx where we can put together our new business proposal for the Westview. Phoebe will call the hotel and fake like Hitoshi's secretary to make the announcement that he's returned and wishes to call a meeting of the board of directors. Meanwhile I'll leak these photos from the hotel to a few dozen news sites so we can get the rumor mill churning before our big reveal at the meeting. Do you think we should get a handwriting analyst to verify the letter from Hitoshi first? You _know_ they're going to question everything."

She gestures at Alex with a smile. "You're more than welcome to join us for the meeting if you want to be my legal muscle. If not, maybe you and Evie can see if those key cards work so you can search the executive floors while I keep them busy."

"With any luck we'll gain control of the hotel, throw Selene and Maxwell for a loop, and get more information as to where they plan this assassination attempt." She gestures at herself with her hands. "That's MY best idea for a plan, anyway."

"I'll opt for searching the rooms. Let's not rouse their suspicions too quickly," Alex says. "But I'll be a phone call away if you need to call on legal muscle."

"Las Vegas Police Department, how may I direct your call?"

"Patty, this is Evie Cartwright. Put me through to the Chief?" Evie says. She winces slightly, bracing for yet another dressing-down.

"I'd chew you out, Cartwright, but I haven't got the time," the Chief says. "I did tell you not to take any unnecessary risks. Where are you, General?"

"No. I'm in one piece, Chief. Floor went out from under me, I couldn't climb back up. I spent most of the night wandering through the storm drains - which were totally gross with water and fire retardant - trying to find an exit that wasn't blocked or chained off. But, hey, I found Alex North. He's alive. A little crispy around the edges," you tell him.

"Good." He sighs heavily. "I can't say I'm not glad that you called in. Apparently, the President has decided to grace us with his presence. He's in California through Monday, then he'll chopper up here Tuesday morning to kiss some babies, speech at the Las Vegas Country Club, and then fly out of Nellis. We'll be backing up the State Troopers for the motorcade, and assisting the Secret Service on the protective detail.

"Secret Service is doing a final walk-down of the Club on Monday morning. I want you there, mostly because you're one of the best pairs of eyes I have on the force. 9AM sharp, please. And ... I know you don't do the dress-for-success thing, but no t-shirts, okay?"

"If it makes you feel any better, Chief, I've already had two ass-chewings, today. So, consider me properly reprimanded," Evie chuckles. "But, yep...I'll be there. 9AM. No T-shirts. Not even the nice ones."

"Keep sharp, Cartwright. I'll expect to hear from you tomorrow," Chief says.

"Yes, sir!" Evie grins as she closes her phone and goes back to join Lya, Alex and the Furies.

She settles back into her old seat and resumes eating the pie that she had left behind. Smiling, she says, "Score. Only got yelled at two out of three potential times. I call that a win!"

"Okay, here's the deal. Warner is in California through Monday. Tuesday morning, he's coming to Vegas and will be giving a speech at the country club before flying out of Nellis. I'm to report to the Club at 9AM to assist the Secret Service with doing their final walk-down."

Lya fills Evie in on her plan for the corporate takeover. Nodding, she says, "Great! Hopefully, all of that will keep them busy. Were you planning on doing that tonight or tomorrow?"

"Well we'll need to get the clothes and stuff first and have Phoebe make the call so they can arrange a board meeting for us to go to... so unless they throw down with an emergency meeting, my money is on tomorrow," Lya replies.

"Remind me to thank Hitoshi when we see him because this business takeover stuff is a pain," Lya chuckles and starts counting on her fingers. "We've got to arrange the meeting, buy the suits, distribute the photos to the media, get an analyst to confirm the letter was written by Hitoshi, put together a prospectus for the board...damn... anything else?"

"We could try getting Karen Ryder on our side if you think she's trustworthy," Orithia adds.

"Yeah... considering she basically runs the place, it would be nice to have her on our side, " Lya replies. "That is... if she's not all shady and shit."

"You know... you're probably going to have to watch the language if you become a CEO," says Klepto with a smirk.

"Dammit... see? This is exactly what I'm talking about," Lya groans.


	42. Lya's Coup De Grace

It always begins with something small.

Email with the incriminating photos are sent, and the media bites quickly. Not because two apparently consenting adults are engaged in sexual conduct, but because one man is lying insensate while another is trying on his uniform.

A time-consuming visit to the University produces a graphologist who can verify Hitoshi's handwriting, but says the full analysis will take 72 hours. Lya grudgingly agrees - having the process underway will have to do.

And then, the visit to Hitoshi's office. It's quiet, because it's a Sunday afternoon. You try the keycard from the other Westview Grand, and it unlocks the doors.

"Phoebe? Secretary's desk. Start calling the board members," you direct.

"On it."  
_Orders have been left in a sealed envelope ...  
_  
"Damn you, Hitoshi," you mutter.

"Lya?" comes a voice from an adjacent office. Mika Hanamura is sitting at her desk. She swings her computer monitor aside. "Is there something wrong? Hitoshi isn't here."

"I know that. He left me this open-if-you-don't-hear-from-me letter," you say, showing an excerpt to Mika.  
_  
... in the event of my death, transfer ownership ..._

Mika mutters something in Japanese. "Oh, hell. I suppose it'd be silly to ask if you tried his phone?"

"Several times. No answer."

"We'll have to call a board meeting and hope we have a quorum. We'll start with James Sokatsu ..."

"I'll tell Phoebe," Orithia says, heading back to the reception area.

"... what else did the letter say?"

"That there are instructions in his safe. I have the combination," you say.

"We'll wait for James. He's served as Hitoshi's agent before, so he can attest to the authenticity of the letter," Mika said. "And he'll be able to effect any instructions Hitoshi left behind."

* * *

"Daaaaaaaad?" Gregory Mason's son ran into the den and gave him the handset.

"Mason."

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Mason," Phoebe said. "I'm calling on behalf of Hitoshi Ryder ..."

"What cockamamie charity does he want our backing for _now_?" Mason half-snarled.

"I'm afraid I don't have that information, Mr. Mason," Phoebe said sweetly, while making stab-stabbity motions with the pen in her hand. "I'm calling to advise you of an emergency board meeting at 11:30 AM."

Mason glanced at his watch. He'd miss the AFC Playoff game. But damned if he was going to let Ryder destroy the company - and the investment - he'd built over the past several years. And if Ryder thought he could run him out of town on a rail like he did John Jennings, well ...

"Okay, Matt, go tell your Mom I have to drive in to town for a meeting," Mason told his son.

* * *

"Caller presently unavailable. Not even voicemail," Sokatsu said. He hung up and shook his head at Mika and the others. "Do you have any idea _where _he was going, Lya? And who's this Lyman he talks about?"

_Oh, no one in particular,_ Lya thought. _Just the Norse God of Lies. _"Some weaselish fellow that came backstage after our show," Lya said. "Made some kind of offer, maybe even a threat, because Hitoshi went all quiet and broody. When we went out for drinks later, he spent a lot of time talking about making things better and protecting his family and friends."

"That sounds like Hitoshi," James agreed. "All right. Let's go open the safe."

Sokatsu pulled out his smartphone and began recording the proceedings, identifying himself and asking Lya and Mika to identify themselves. "Ms. Bach, will you open the safe?"

Lya punched in the code and worked the handle. There was only one thing inside, a packet that must be the instructions mentioned in the letter.

"Mika, would you open the packet and spread out the contents so I can see them? Thank you," James said. He glanced at them and turned the camera back towards himself. "The documents appear to be in order. If we cannot locate Hitoshi Ryder or establish his well-being, we will be obligated to carry out his instructions and transfer ownership to Ms. Bach."

The whole of the Board arrived for the meeting.

"This had better be important, Sokatsu," Mason growled.

"It is," James said. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Board, this is Lya Bach."

"The singer," Doug Maxwell noted.

"Yes. And the apparent beneficiary of final instructions left by Hitoshi Ryder," James said.

"Final instructions?" asked Amelie Pelletier. "Are you saying Hitoshi Ryder is ... dead?"

Selene Chase hid her reaction behind widening eyes. "Oh, gods."

"Beneficiary," Mason said. "Too bad seats on the Board don't work like that."

"You misunderstand me, Gregory," Sokatsu said. "He left the Casino in its entirety to Ms. Bach."

"The hell you say."

"I do say. And perhaps you should review the copy of the letter before making any more pronouncements," James warned.

Mason glanced at his copy of the letter. "What is this, a Japanese soap opera? What is this shit? And who is Lyman?"

"I'm not sure I approve of the notion that our CEO ran off to kill someone," Selene Chase said. "I'm calling for a vote of no confidence."

"It doesn't work that way, Selene. While the letter may leave some question as to Hitoshi Ryder's actions, his final instructions were separate and dated well before this letter," James said.

The photos flicked onto the table so quickly, no one was sure who had done it.

"Oh, my god. What is this? Ryder is spying on us?" another board member asked.

Selene went pale. "That's ..."

"... not you? Or you, Doug?" Mason asked. "Is this your doing, Sokatsu, you smug bastard?"

"I admit to the same surprise as yourself," James said. "The photos clearly show Selene and Doug Maxwell engaged in activities that are, at best, questionable."

"They're fakes," Selene said dismissively. "I won't sit here and be slandered by proxy."

"Feel free to enjoy it in your own home... or a bar... or on your phone... or on TV displays while walking down the street," Lya replies sweetly as she smiles at Selene, "because the media is already having a field day trying to figure out why two members of our board are having a sex party with a Senator while trying to dress someone up to impersonate an Army Colonel..._especially_ with the President coming to town."

She looks meaningfully at the board members and places her hands on the table as she leans forward. "I finally took a good look at this hotel and I have to say, I know why he left it to me now." She wrinkles her nose. "This place is so old and stale it stinks." she leans forward and takes another sniff at Selene. "Or maybe it's wet dog."

"The hotel security failed during your concert series and injuries were caused by known gang members. Not only that, but the attempted assassination of a public official happened on your doorstep by the same gang! Do you think the FBI is going to forget that little tidbit when they start asking about those photos? Do you think the masses are even going to _listen_ to your proclamations of innocence when they're watching another rich person get their just deserts on national television?"

She slams her fist down on the table. "This hotel is sick and dying... and the only way to save it is to _remove the infection._ This is your chance to be proactive before it explodes in your face, so I suggest you take it."

She slaps down the prospectus with her ideas for the hotel and personnel suggestions. "Hitoshi's letter gives you the opening you need to appoint a new CEO who is popular with the masses, as well as a known philanthropist. I've known Karen Ryder most of my life, and I believe she would support me with the transition. Once that's complete we'll of course need to separate ourselves from the incidents at the hotel by publicly denouncing the actions of Douglas and Selene and letting them go. Throw in a good PR spin of shock and dismay, and maybe... _maybe..._ this hotel can continue to survive and thrive."

She taps a finger against her cheek as she ponders for a moment. "We might want to consider changing the name, though. I mean... half the people in town can't get the name right anyway. How about something regal... The Pantheon, maybe?"

Mason paled.

"You leaked this to the media? Why?" he asked. "We're looking at serious, if not long-term damage to our shares!"

A round of chaotic shouting followed. Protestations of innocence from Selene. Doug Maxwell fidgeting with an onyx ring on his right hand - a common enough adornment for an executive, but possibly much more for a Scion. But he was caught in the open, among mortals as well as others of his kind.  
And the pictures! They showed events that hadn't happened yet, but must have happened in one of the alternate realities Armand - Jason - had been seeking to exploit. Had Lyman been caught? How? The Daughter of Heimdall, perhaps? He needed to throw them off the scent. The Norse gods weren't _his_ patrons, after all. Maybe he could cut a deal.

"It's the Japanese. That Pacific Rim deal," he temporized. "Don't you see it? They're cutting us out. We've been set up." A couple of the other board members nodded sagely.

"That's bullshit, Douglas," Amelie Pelletier said. "You don't destroy a property you're trying to acquire."

"She said it herself," Maxwell argues, pointing at Lya. "Out with the old, in with the new. We can stop it, though, if we band together, put our shares behind a man who knows how to build value. Gregory?"

"Are you offering to sell me your shares, Doug?"

"If that's what's needed to keep this debacle from destroying the Westview Group."

"James, you handled the transfer of John Jennings' shares," Mason said. "Do we defer action until the opening of business tomorrow?"

"A memorandum of understanding would be sufficient," Sokatsu says. "That would give the new CEO the authority to act, while the actual transaction can be handled by our respective brokers on Monday."

"Done," Maxwell said, scribbling out a note. He handed it to Mason. "I'm not going to let this company go down the drain."

"Someone else - well, several someones - will have to do the same. Ryder still has the majority share, and Jimmy, there, has authority to vote them," Mason noted. "Selene? You and Doug are the ones who are vulnerable, here."

"I don't see that she has any choice," Pelletier said. "If this goes viral, the Board of Directors is answerable. Whether or not you sell your shares to Gregory, the Board will require both of your resignations."

"Fine," snarled Selene. She, too, jotted out a note and slid it across the table to Mason. And then she kissed him. "Kill the bitch for me, Gregory." She moves towards the exit, laughing. Mason's eyes roll up into his head, and then refocus. He glares at Lya, seething with rage ...

Klepto moves to block the door with arms crossed. "You're not going anywhere, _bitch."_

"James, I suggest you call security and everyone move away from Mr. Maxwell," Lya says calmly as she steps back, her hand moving to her shoulder holster under her suit jacket. _Let them all see them for who they really are first..._

Toxic, Phoebe and Orithia move themselves around the edges of the room, ready to move at a moments notice.

"_Gregory_,_"_ Amelie Pelletier says_. "**Gregory**._"

Mason is still behaving like a vicious dog. He advances several steps towards Lya, but is blocked by Toxic, who is his equal in height.  
Mika Hanamura quietly gathers the signed notes and gives them to James Sokatsu, who is on the phone with Security. He places them in his portfolio and closes it.

"Ah. You're not just the band," Selene laughs, her voice taking on a colder tone. "What are you, Valkyries?"

"I am the warrior who will kick your ass into next week," Klepto says.

"Oh, you can try," Selene smiles. In a blur, she swipes a hand across Klepto's midriff as if she'd had claws. When she moves, it isn't entirely ... human, but something feral.

Klepto turns away from the blow, but there's still a spray of blood as she catches Selene's wrist and wrenches her arm into a painful lock. Selene cries out - or snarls, it's hard to tell which - as Klepto bends her backwards towards the table. There's a snapping sound as Klepto pushes the arm lock and breaks bone, then a _thud_ as she uses the slack to slam Selene's head against the table several times.

Toxic's fist snaps out in a short, powerful punch that catches Gregory Mason square in the face.

"Snap out of it, or I will put you down," she warns. When Mason doesn't appear to hear her warning, she follows through with a roundhouse, then a leg sweep that drops the executive to the floor.

Maxwell makes an up-and-down gesture with his hands and vanishes from sight.

"Klepto, watch out!" calls Orithia.

"Busy!" Klepto says, still wrestling with a biting and clawing Selene Chase.

Mika Hanamura shoves one of the chairs across the room. There's a grunt as it hits something and topples.

"Lya!" shouts Phoebe. Maxwell is still invisible, but there's no doubt he's heading for Lya ...

Lya brushes back her jacket and draws her pistol out in a practiced motion as she fires low (in order to avoid hitting others) in the area where the chair impacted with what she guessed was Douglas Maxwell.

"Time to fess up to the lies, Douglas!" Lya calls out as she cocks her gun and Phoebe and Orithia move to guard her flanks. "You and the bitch are traitors to our country who deserve to pay for what you've done! Show yourself and seek absolution."

"Am I supposed to drip blood all over and reveal where I am? That only works in movies," Maxwell's voice comes out of thin air, moving as he moves. You can only track him in a vague, general way, though he's clearly trying to close the distance. "I'd thought North was the Perry Mason in your group. You must know that you can't stop it, even if Jason screwed up again. It has a life of its ... oof!"

Phoebe's fist lashes out, and you hear a satisfying, meaty _smack_.

"Guh ... how did you ...?" Maxwell gasps. He flickers into view, doubled over in pain. He's closer than you thought, but neither are you off target.

"Fighting the unseen is something we learn at an early age," Phoebe says. "Your ring. Whatever relic you're wielding, or we'll break your arm."

Orithia wrenches his arm around and rips the ring off his finger. "I say we break his arm anyway."

"Maenads. Oh, shit," Maxwell says. He winces. "Just make it quick."

"Nah... Dad liked people too much to give me Maenads," Lya snarls as she gets in Maxwell's face. "Me, I think that's what some of you deserve," she finishes before striking him in the temple with the butt of her gun, causing his unconscious body to sag between the grips of Phoebe and Orithia.

Lya holsters her gun looks questioningly at Klepto who shakes her head imperceptibly. Lya then nods at Mika before sitting on the conference table and smiling at the rest of the board members. "Well now we've got the assault and attempted murder of someone with a rightful claim to this company, which, other than Miss Hanamura I might add, you all did nothing to stop. I could gladly explain this to the cops if you like... or, as your new CEO, I could keep this little incident a company matter and be the face on the news that _saves_ this hotel."

"I wasn't aware my role as a member of this board included 'action heroine,'" Amelie Pelletier frowns. "Selene and Douglas are responsible for their own actions. If Gregory regains his senses, we can return to the discussion of consolidating shares. If not, my only concern is the continued and smooth operation of the Westview Grand.

"But there's clearly more to the situation than corporate politics. Douglas' vanishing act, for one. Mason's drooling zombie routine. And Selene's Rhonda Rousey imitation. Would you care to offer some insight so we know what to tell the police?"

"I can offer insight... but it's up to you whether you want to actually tell it to the police or not," Lya replies before walking over to Klepto and putting a hand to the bloody scratches covering her torso. "You might want to get checked for rabies after that," she chuckles as her hand warms with energy that radiates into the wound, leaving only the ragged fabric of Klepto's shirt and the gasps of onlookers as proof that the attack even happened.

"Damn... I just got this," Klepto groans before leaning over the unconscious Selene sprawled over the table. "You owe me a new shirt," she growls.

"When I mentioned my father, what I should've said was he was Dionysus, the Greek God of Wine." She gestures towards Selene. "That bitch, she's the spawn of Fenris, the great wolf from Norse mythology. This asshole," she kicks the unconscious Maxwell," I'll have to ask him who his parent is when he wakes up." She sighs. "The world is replete with the children of gods and goddesses from just about every religion, actually, because they're _all_ true. Not everyone gets to know their heritage, though. Some of us are just 'lucky' enough to be told the truth of it."

She pulls her flask out from her other coat pocket and takes a sip before offering it to Amelie. "A lot to take in, I realize. If it's easier, you can just tell yourself that Douglas, Selene and Gregory are a part of some crazy "Left Behind" cult who think that they need to cause the end of the world in order to achieve salvation." She shrugs. "Either way works. Oh... and I didn't mean to imply that you needed to be a hero, Amelie... I was just letting you know that I'll remember who _was."_

"I am sorely tempted to tell anyone who asks that it was an ill-fated romantic triangle," Amelie says. "Your acquisition of a controlling interest upset the apple cart, and they reacted poorly. Let the police sort out the rest."

"As Hitoshi's Ryder financial advisor and executor of his estate, I will abstain on that question," Sokatsu says. "While these are unusual circumstances, our only obligation is to observe the particulars of Hitoshi's instructions. It is highly unlikely that a court would ignore the legal instructions of a principal and rule in favor of the Board - in particular, Gregory Mason."

"Absent Hitoshi's return or a legal refutation of his final wishes, Ms. Bach is the new owner of the Westview Grand," he adds. "I call for a vote to affirm her as the new CEO, Selene Chase, and Douglas Maxwell to be divested of their shares under the ethics clause in the Westview's articles of incorporation, with Gregory Mason's shares also in question pending a determination of the extent of his involvement."

"Seconded," Amelie Pelletier said. "All in favor?" Unanimous.

"The motion carries," Pelletier noted. "Now, the pending absence of three members leaves us with three vacancies. While I do not expect to settle this question here and now, nominating and confirming new board members will be one of our first priorities. Ms. Bach?"

"My suggestion is that we tell the cops and media that are sure to be involved that we as a _unified_ group discovered their involvement with a questionable religious terrorist group and did our civic duty to root it out and remove them. When we confronted the three of them, they chose to attack us and were dealt with swiftly before being turned over to the authorities. Not that far from the truth, really, as Hitoshi had his suspicions and asked for my help to watch these guys a while ago."

She gestures with a hand at the unconscious trio. "Ladies and gentlemen, this company needs a scapegoat in order to survive... and I do believe they've volunteered. If we can all agree on that, maybe we can work on moving forward with this company and making this hotel the talk of Las Vegas for the _right_ reasons."

She turns to Amelie with a faint smile. "I imagine you've already got some names in mind, Mrs. Pelletier, as I'm sure the rest of the board members will too. If Miss Hanamura and Mr. Sokatsu would be so kind as to continue their exemplary job performance in my employ, I'm sure we'll be able to go over the suggestions provided and fill the positions in due speed."

She then steps over to Orithia and leans in to whisper. "Make sure you search them for possible relics before handing them over to security."

Orithia nods and hands Maxwell's ring to Lya. "Enjoy the new jewelry."

As Klepto wrestles an unconscious Selene around, she notices her broken arm ... isn't.

"She heals like Alex," she warns. Selene's arm isn't even bruised.

"Then she's likely to regain consciousness quickly, too," Toxic says. She points at one of the other board members. "You and you. Your ties and belts."  
The men removes the requested items. Toxic tosses one of each to Phoebe and Klepto, who use them to bind and gag Selene and Maxwell.

"What about Sleeping Beauty?" Orithia asks, nodding towards Gregory Mason. "Was he doped with Jotunblut, or whatever it's called?"

"I don't know. Maybe Alex can tell," Lya frowned. "Tie his hands and toss him in a corner."

"Excuse me. You called for Security, Mr. Sokatsu?" a plainclothes officer asked.

"I did, Martin. Please escort Ms. Chase and Mr. Maxwell to our holding cells," James tells him. "Douglas attacked a new board member, and Ms. Chase assaulted one of her associates. We haven't decided whether we'll be pressing charges, but their privileges and access are no longer valid."

"Sir?"

"Treat them as you would a card counter. Empty their pockets and be on the lookout for associates," James directed. "They don't get released unless it's been cleared with myself, Ms. Pelletier, or Ms. Bach."

"Yes, Sir."

Sokatsu waited until security had left with the two Scions.

"It's not going to be that easy. If Gregory is in his right mind, he'll contest the 'will,' as well as any actions taken while he was unconscious. Fortunately, we've still a quorum. Ms. Bach, you have my number. I will be placing a transaction hold on Selene and Douglas' shares. With that, I motion we adjourn."

"Seconded," said one of the junior board members. "Ancient gods? End of the world? I'll be in the lounge getting smashed. And then I'm going to empty my bank account and blow it on a single hand of blackjack. Hey, if the world's ending, right?"

He laughs nervously, then stops as he realizes Lya and the Furies aren't laughing at all.

"Motion passes. Adjourned."

Lya heaves a sigh of relief as the board members start shuffling out of the room to deal with aftermath and Klepto claps a hand on her shoulder. "Knew you could do it." she then nods at Toxic. "How about you and I keep an eye on the holding cells while they finish up here?"

"Yeah, we don't want Lyman trying to impersonate someone to set them free," Toxic mutters as they head out the door. "Your turn to pick up coffee, though."

Lya then turns to Mika with a grateful smile. "You handled yourself well considering the circumstances, Mika; I wasn't lying when I said that I notice people who can do what needs to be done." She leans against the conference room table with her arms crossed as she takes a good hard look at Hitoshi's erstwhile assistant. "I will admit... I don't know the first thing about running a hotel, but Hitoshi trusted me to make the hard decisions in his absence and he obviously trusted you to do the same... so maybe we can continue that arrangement? I'm going to need help keeping everything organized... and the first point of order is going to be a press conference."

She chuckles to herself. "The media hates being second when it comes to big news... so best to spin things our way first."

Mika gives you a brief bow. "The day-to-day operations are handled by others, including Karen Ryder, who is ... detail-oriented enough to have documented all of the necessary procedures."

"I can place the necessary calls if you wish to hold a press conference. And while we do not know if Gregory Mason is complicit, as James pointed out, there is nothing to suggest Hitoshi's final instructions are anything other than they seem."

"Do you want the press conference to be this evening, or Monday morning? And are there any guests you wish to have present?" Mika asks.

* * *

The holding cells for the Westview are basically a series of small interview rooms. A table, two chairs, and a one-way mirror.

Maxwell says nothing as he is shown to one room, taking his seat without protest. Selene, however, is not as cooperative, promising to exact revenge against ... well, everyone involved. And their families.

"Look, I realize you heal quickly," Klepto says. "Doesn't matter to me, I'll just hurt you more."

"Hey, now ..." one of the security guards starts to object, stops when Toxic glares at him.

"We'll be keeping an eye on things," Klepto says. She smacks one of the guards on the back of his head. He'd met Selene's eyes and had begun to stare.

"Because of stupid shit like that. From this point on, if I ask you a question or ask you to do something, and you don't reply with an immediate answer to the affirmative, I will punch your lights out."

"You can't do t-"

Punch.

"Anyone else want to argue?" Klepto asked.

* * *

"Let me get a few ducks in a row first, and we'll set up the press conference for Monday. Why don't you get me a meeting with Karen Ryder first, Mika. If she accepts one of the available positions on the board we'll need her with us to help show a unified front for the new direction of the hotel. We'll of course need the rest of the board members too and our attorney to handle the legal questions you just know they'll hit us with."

"Hai, Miss Bach-sama," Mika replies with a bow before pulling out her phone to start making calls.

Lya turns to Orithia and leans in to speak quietly. "See if you can use our keycards to search their offices before security clears them out."

Lya then pulls out her phone and dials her cousin, taking a deep breath before before he answers.

"What's up, cousin? The dreams are still a bummer, but nothing's changed yet."

"I've got a bit of a business proposition for you, Arky," Lya replies as she scoots back to sit on the conference room table and lets her feet dangle over the edge. "You up for helping me redesign a hotel in order to bring back some of that old family style to Las Vegas? It seems that Hitoshi has left the Grandview to me for some crazy reason... and I've got to tell you, we both need your help badly. Help me out and I bet I could swing adding a few employees under the table if you guys need some extra income."

"Redesign a hotel?" he says. "Ohhhhh, I love it when you talk dirty to me. The glass-and-chrome look has to go. Art Deco. Or maybe Art Nouveau. Yeah, Art Nouveau."

"Wait. Did you just offer me a job, Lya?"

"Well you know, there _are_ three positions available on the board right now, and you _are_ a big name in the art world," Lya replies innocently and smiles to herself.

"I think Art Nouveau would perfect, Arky. If I whisper sweet nothings like 'artistic freedom' in your ear will that turn you on and get you to join me?"

"If the offer were coming from anyone else, I'd say no," Arky says. "I'd be afraid of getting captured by the system and becoming useless, another suit who knows the music, but not the right dance steps. But with you, that's not likely to happen. You want me on the board? Sure."  
"And are you serious about the redesign? I have a degree in architecture, I just wanted to design things other than ugly lumps on the Strip."

"I wouldn't yank your chain, Arky," Lya replies as she grabs a pen off the table and chews at the end cap.

"I never thought of myself running a hotel in a million years... but Hitoshi did leave the thing to me, which means it needs to be _my_ hotel... run _my_ way. I couldn't think of anyone I would trust more to design it. I can't imagine the board will say no, so you'll just need to look your best and come in with some ideas for everyone Monday before the press conference, OK? And if you need to bring in some of your crew to help, I'm sure we can work something out where they can stay under the radar."

"I'm on it," Arky says. "Expect me and Tawny. Ahhhhh. This is just what I neeed, Lya. You know how it is. Music for you, art for me - it pushes back the darkness, and I can _see_ again."

"What time for the big meeting?"

"We'll want the press conference to time it right for the evening news Monday night... so make sure you're here with bells &amp; whistles on by 4:00 pm at the latest."

Lya smiles to herself and makes a fist pumping motion as she kicks her feet. "You're a star, Arky. You and me, we'll give the people of Las Vegas something to remind them of the good times again. I can't wait to see your plans! Ciao!"

With that Lya hangs up and pushes off the table to find her new assistant. "Miiiikaaa! I need that meeting with Karen Ryder, stat!"

"Karen Ryder is expecting you in the Operations Center," Mika tells you. "Also, if I may have your keycard for a moment?"  
She taps out something on her keyboard, and swipes your card through a reader.

"Your card has been upgraded to a master key," she says, pointing to her screen. The thumbnail photo of you was snapped some time during the meeting, and the title is clear: Lya Bach, Owner/CEO. "I can have executive access cards prepared for your associates."

You motion for Orithia and Phoebe to join you. Your relationship with Karen Ryder has always been cool, to say the least - the measuring eye of a mother who found her son and her son's taste in companions to be somewhat lacking.

"That one," she says to a security guard. "Blackjack Five, Seat Four. Cowboy hat, snakeskin boots, fake diamond ring. He's counting. Advise Paul and have a security team on standby. Switch out the dealer early and have her shuffle the decks. If he gets up, escort him to the cage and ask him to cash out."

"Lya," she says with a polite but I'm-very-busy tone. "What is it that Hitoshi has to send you in his place?"

"It's a _really_ long story, Karen," Lya replies as she pulls the letter out of her pocket and slides it across the table to her. "Hitoshi left us because he felt there was a danger to our world that only he could take care of, and when he did, he left me this letter leaving the hotel to me. Despite what you may think of me, I plan to do everything I can for this hotel to make sure it'll be better than he left it if he manages to come back to us... but to do that, I'm going to need _your_ help."

Karen takes out a pair of reading glasses and goes over the letter. She sighs.

"He never spoke about Akane," she says quietly. "It was his private pain. I could only try to provide structure to his life, but he was always running off to save someone or fix things. Only this time, he's gone off to ... what? Sacrifice himself because he thinks he's not worthy?"  
She hands the letter back to you. "Oh, Hitoshi. Why are you so afraid of letting others care for you? Why do you have to be the knight in shining armor, every single time?"

"Focus, Karen," she chides herself, blinking back tears. "I imagine you wouldn't be here if the board had not agreed that this letter is genuine. Please tell me you aren't planning to clean house? I mean, I understand it from a corporate perspective, but ... right now, I need some structure in my life. Something I can depend on."

"Funny you should say that," Lya replies. "Afraid I wasn't given much choice with the house cleaning, as Selene, Douglas and Gregory had a rather... violent reaction to Hitoshi finding out certain things about them that they weren't too happy to have revealed."

She sighs. "Which brings me to why I'm here. There's going to be a press conference Monday where I will announce the new leadership and direction of the hotel, as well as the three new board members... and I'd like _you_ to be one of them. I've already asked my cousin Arky to join us as the new art director for the hotel... but I need someone like you by my side who knows how to run the day to day operations of a business like this."

She puts her hands on the desk and leans forward. "I can't do this without you, Karen. Will you stand with me and help me make this hotel something beautiful?"

"Board member?" she says. "Me? Lya, that's more than generous. I was thinking I'd have to fight to keep my job as Head of Casino Operations."  
She straightens her blazer and dabs away the last of her tears.  
"I accept."

"Fantastic!" Lya exclaims with a smile and a clap of her hands. "The board will meet at 4pm on Monday and then there will be the press conference afterwards so we can announce the changes to the public and head off any wild speculations. I'm hoping you'll love the plans Arky and I have for the place, Karen. I trust you'll let me know if I step in something along the way."

She winks and smiles as she backs out of the office. "Sorry I can't stay and celebrate, but a CEO's work is never done, right?"

As she walks down the hallway back to the elevators her phone vibrates and the tune "Somebody's Watching Me" by Rockwell starts to echo from her pocket.

"Evie! Tell me some good news and I'll tell you mine!" Lya replies as she answers her phone.

* * *

(Meanwhile ...)

Gregory Mason's eyes snapped open. Had he fallen asleep on the couch? Wait, he was lying in bed. No, not a bed. On a stretcher. And under restraint.

What had happened?

He'd been at an emergency session of the Board of Directors. Hitoshi Ryder had gone and transferred his shares - his _majority_ share - of the Westview Grand to some singer from a rock band. The only way to counter that move was to consolidate sufficient shares to contest the transfer, tie it up in court.

And then it had all gone topsy-turvy.

Photos showing Selene Chase and Douglas Maxwell involved in some odd threesome with an unconscious Air Force officer, and Maxwell trying on the man's uniform.

Selene had kissed him.

_Kill the bitch for me, Gregory_, she had said. Commanded. Had she drugged him, somehow? It had been a mistake, his dalliance with the younger woman. And, yet, there'd been that one night where they were both dining alone. She smiled at him, crooked a finger ...

Even now, a part of him wanted her. She had certainly been ... enthusiastic in bed, confessing her attraction to powerful men. And his wife would never know. A dinner here, a business trip there ...

Only now, _everyone_ would know. And he couldn't explain why he did what he did. It was like some bizarre episode out of the X-Files, mind control through pheromones or something.

"Gregory."

Shit. It was her! He tensed, fearing that she would say something and he would be compelled to obey.

"Gregory, it's Amelie. Do you remember where you are?"

He sighed. It wasn't her, after all.

"Amelie?"

"Yes," she said. She asked again, "Do you know where you are?"

Mason turned his head from side to side. "Hospital?"

"Not yet. Westview's Medical Center," Pelletier told him. "You had an ... episode."

"Selene."

"If you've come to your senses, then I think I can persuade the Board to overlook your ... outburst," she told him. "I'll expect your support, of course. There's no reason for either of us to wind up on the street, even with these Robin Hood theatrics from Hitoshi Ryder."

"I don't know what happened!" Gregory protested. "I feel fine, now. But in the Board room, it was like I couldn't help myself! I had to do what she told me to."

Amelie added it up. "You had an affair."

"Yes," Mason admitted. "She must have drugged me or something."

"A convenient excuse, Gregory. If I'd known you were that much of a pushover, I'd have doped your coffee years ago," Pelletier said, icily. She'd have to talk to Lya Bach about this. Ancient gods, nonsense about the End Times, maybe even mind controlling magic. It was like a goofy fantasy saga. 


	43. The Ghost Whisperer

While Lya is busy beginning the corporate take-over, Evie makes herself useful at the cemetery, searching for Thomas' ghost.

She walks among the rows of silent plots, her eyes scanning the tombstones in search of the Cardinelli's name. The air is still and quiet, disturbed only by the occasional sound of birds twittering here and there from their perches in ornamental trees.

Off to one side, she spots a pavilion raised over an empty grave, obviously in preparation for a funeral. Evie is glad that she's missing that. Even though no one would question her presence in the graveyard, she'd still feel as though she was inadvertently intruding upon a private moment.

Finally, after wandering around a bit, she finds herself standing in front of a relatively fresh grave, the headstone clearly marked with Thomas' name and birth/death dates. Flowers have been left, though they have clearly been there for a while. _Of course, Thomas' brother and sister would come out. This would've been their official good-bye._

Speaking softly, she says, "Thomas? You around?" Evie turns in a circle, trying to engage her gift…looking past the mundane world and into that shady area where ghosts exist.

"I'm here, Evelyn Cartwright. I am bound to the events that loom before you, and cannot fully depart the mortal realm," Thomas Cardinelli says. "I have you to thank for bringing closure to my family."

She smiles touch sadly. Though she needs Thomas to help her answer some questions, she had hoped that he was able to move on.

"Evie," she chuckles quietly. "You're family...distant, but still family. The only people who call me Evelyn are old men and my mom when I'm in trouble."

"I think I might count as an old man, at this point," the shade gently jests.

"Touché," Evie smiles and then sighs. "I need your help, hopefully for the last time. For some reason, everything that is happening is centered around Vegas...in this reality and others. No matter what, it all seems to circle back around to here."

"What was happening in Vegas when you were alive? I know that Roget was building his place. I have your notes about Fenris and the others working with him. But...what else may have been happening?" she tilts her head and shoves her hands in her pockets, regarding Thomas thoughtfully.

"Also, were you working alone or were there other Scions helping you?"

"They were trying to get one of their number elected to Congress," Thomas said. "That happened to be Armand Roget. But voters are pretty perceptive, and Armand was just a little too slick for their tastes. He lost. Badly."  
"He explained it to me, as I lay dying. He was looking for some kind of conjunction or correspondence between worlds. I was supposed to be used as some kind of human circuit breaker or something, until Surt - his pet troll - bashed my head in. That was that."

"Were there other Scions? Not in town, no. I was surprised, actually. Dad had said that power calls to power. I always hoped, but ..."

Evie nods, "They managed to use Alex to do just that. They formed a conjunction between this world and another version of Vegas but we managed to sever the anchor."

"He's trying the exact, same ploy, this time, too. This time, he's replacing a fairly moderate senator and plans on assassinating the president, Tuesday. The plan is to move the senator up to that seat of power where he can effectively start WWIII and jump start Fimbulwinter."

Evie starts to pace a bit, her brow furrowed, "But, why Vegas? What is special about here? And why were there no other Scions?"

"Power calls to power..." she mutters. "Could it be...a conjunction between Asgard and here? Do Vegas and Asgard line up?"

Though she is not sure that she is capable of "mapping" Asgard, she still tries. Evie stands still and concentrates, trying to overlap coordinates in her mind to confirm or reject this theory.

You find yourself pacing and turning to get a sense of where things are, but your number-juggling doesn't seem to be very productive. You find yourself staring at the distant hills of Red Rock Canyon. And then it hits you. It's not a perfect correspondence. It's more akin to a map drawn from memory. Distant hills, just as there were at Hrofgar's forge. A nearby city. And what else might correspond to something? The Westview? The casino owned by one of Roget's/Lyman's/Loki's band?

And what of the carefully crafted drama Hitoshi is embroiled in? It doesn't match anything out of the Poetic Edda. Is he just a convenient pawn, the only one among your band that has an emotional lever to hand?

He's at the Country Club with the President. Our President is about to attend a fundraising event at the Country Club. Everything is coming to a flashpoint...

"A convergence...everything is coming together...here...there...it's all a reflection of each other. But what does that _mean?_" Evie paces in agitation, feeling like the answer is right there staring her in the face and she's not getting it.

"Could it be that the realities will be close enough that they will overlap? But, if that could happen, anyway, then why the need for an anchor? Unless some realities are further away than others?" the detective growls softly, all of this outside of her knowledge. Certainly, she has a grasp of sci-fi but that was all outside of reality before she knew her heritage. Now, all these new theories are open for examination, but she has no idea what has an actual foundation.

"Power calls to power...like calls to like...Will the presidents switch places at the convergence? Could that happen? But, by the time the president is here, in our world, won't he have left the Club in Hitoshi's? Then again, time is getting all janky so...who knows?"

She shakes her head, "I need to talk to Lya. She understands magic better than I do."

"Thomas...what about the Country Club?" she asks. "Was it always that or was it something else when you were alive?"

"The Country Club?" Thomas laughs. "When I was around, it was a dusty racetrack. Not much of anything. That doesn't mean you couldn't empower the site or something."

"Roget and his friends had their fingers in a lot of pies. For all I know, they offed another Scion and buried him there."

"Hmmm," Evie pulls out her phone and begins tapping in some searches, "Let's see...what happened to that race track? Who owned it, who leveled it, who built the Country Club on top of it..."

"And, I'm going to be there, tomorrow, so I can do a more thorough sweep once I am on site," she grins. "I'm supposed to be poking around! No one will think anything about me looking in places and asking questions."

She gives a half shrug and wry smile, "Of course, that's assuming that no one will try and kill me between now and then. I think they've been avoiding me, for the most part, since I'm Heimdall's kid, but I don't know how much longer that will last."

The history of the LVCC is no secret - race track, then an attempt to leverage a member-supported club to a premium venue, though it wasn't until the 1970's that it took on its present-day form. But the list of original investors ... ah, there it is. Armand Roget. And several other names from Thomas' list ...

"...annnd, sho'nuff. Roget and his cronies have their fingers in the Country Club pie, as well," Evie turns to Thomas. "I know you were halfway joking about someone else being buried there but...I wouldn't be surprised if I do run across another ghost out there."

"If Vegas and everything that is happening in this city is so important, surely the gods wouldn't have placed a only single Scion here. Maybe there were others, but Roget got to them before their parents tagged them and they could become a threat."

She puts her phone back in her pocket and crosses her arms, thinking. It's possible...Loki has been playing with realities and it seems that he can adjust time in these other worlds. Maybe he fast-forwarded in others, found out who was a threat, and came back here to bump them off. But, why miss Thomas? Unless he needed to save one for the anchor.

Inwardly, she shakes her head at herself. _I can't believe that I'm even considering such things but...I've seen the truth. As outlandish as it seems, it's possible._

"Before Tyr tapped you, did you ever have a close call? Something that could've killed you but you either avoided it or pulled through," she asks.

"Yes. In fact, it was the night I was awakened. I responded to a 211-in-progress, holdup at a liquor store," Thomas said. "Called it in, pursued the suspect on foot. Down the block, over several fences ... and then, as I hopped the last, he's just standing there, glassy-eyed.

"Death to the Son of Tyr," he said. Shot me point blank. Emptied the gun, but saved the last bullet for himself. So I'm lying there, figure I've got a couple of broken ribs, and I know I'm bleeding ... and this angel appears. Sorry, Valkyrie. Tells me it's not my time.

"Next thing I remember, I'm in the hospital. Bandaged up, a bit sore, but that beats being dead. A doctor comes in, looks me over, and just when I thought it was all some hallucination on the edge of being shot, tells me he's Tyr, the Norse God of Judgment, and that he's my father. You know how it goes from there, I imagine."

"Almost exactly the same as Alex..." Evie murmurs. "He got the 'death to the son of Tyr' treatment, as well."

"So, it looks like Fenris has a special place in his fuzzy heart for you guys. He wants you dead and he wants you to know that it was no accident. You were targeted and taken out," Evie's brow furrows. "At first, I thought it was just something about Alex that made the enemy single him out. Now, it looks like it's all children of Tyr."

"Singling you guys out, though, is stupid," she shakes her head. "Of course our parents keep tabs on us. By obviously picking on you, he's waving a giant flag that says 'lookit me!'

"Why would Fenris _want_ to get Tyr's attention...unless this is all a set-up for the final battle? He's trying to maneuver all the pieces where he wants them, and he's counting on Tyr to come forward?"

"Of course, he does," she breathes. "He's pushing Ragnarok forward. He wants the battle with Tyr. But, what has he changed that he thinks will let him win, this time?"

"Excuse me, for a moment, Thomas. I need to call Lya and Alex. After we hash things out, we may have more questions, though. Thanks for helping us. You've been a great source of information," she says. She smiles at the ghost and adds, "On the one hand, I'm sorry that you're still stuck here. On the other, I'm glad to have you."

Evie begins setting up for a conference call, trying to get both Alex and Lya on the line so that there is no need for repeating stuff.

"Evie! Tell me some good news and I'll tell you mine!" Lya replies as she answers her phone.

"I take it things went okay, then? Or, at least, nobody is dead or in jail?" Evie grins as she replies.

"Hold on a second and let me see if I can get Alex in on this so we can all talk together. It'll save us some time not having to repeat things and stay coordinated," Evie lowers the phone and starts the process to pull Alex in, if he's available.

Alex's phone buzzes.

"You have a call from Evie Cartwright," his smartphone announces.

"Evie. What's up?" he says. "I've been through the penthouse level. Big fat lot of nothing. Nothing but a couple of spare suits in Hitoshi's suite, and the other rooms are empty. No drugged Air Force colonels, no scandalous affairs, no hidden sniper rifles. Haven't looked on the roof, yet, though."

"Hey, Alex! I've got Lya on the line, too," Evie says, which is immediately followed by a "Hey!" from Lya.

"Okay, so...I've been talking to Thomas..." she begins. It takes her a short time to recap what she has learned - Thomas' own experience before being claimed, the history of the Club and her theories about what may have happened and is currently happening.

"Now, something else occurred to me," she turns in a circle as she talks, scanning the cemetery, just in case she finds herself suddenly not alone. Well, except for Thomas, of course. "Thomas was buried in a star metal coffin with the Edda carved in it. That's freakin' overkill unless that coffin was meant to do something else entirely."

'Thomas sort of kidded that, for all he knew, there might be other Scions buried under the Club. Well...what if that is true? Tyr told Thomas that 'power calls to power.' Loki obviously fucked up by killing Thomas when he was needed as an anchor. So, what if he decided to use Thomas to add to the power in Vegas? What if a Scion's body still holds some of the power of the parent? Or, what if that power can be contained if properly prepared...like in a metal sarcophagus with the Poetic Edda on the outside?"

"Everything seems to be converging on the Club. What if that is because it is a power center because Loki has been planting Scions there for 50 years or more?"

"Hmmm," says Alex. "It'd have to have been an all-at-once thing, back when the place was being built, wouldn't it? Or some kind of figurative thing, burying a piece of them. If you can use Aesir blood for Jotunblut, then it's got power in a mystical sense."

"Honestly, I have no idea how any of this works," Evie admits.

"I figure that if Vegas is a center of power, the gods wouldn't put just one Scion here. So, what happened to the others? Did Loki get them and use them as the base for his power source?"

"Or was Vegas not a center of power, before, but has since become one through Loki's efforts?"

"Lya, you understand this stuff better than I do. Does any of this sound plausible or am I making crap up? Because I totally could be," Evie asks. In the back of her mind, she makes a note to start studying the occult. If she lives through all of this, she'll likely run into more things that she can't explain through her current life experience.

"Not that it matters, much, at this point," Evie shakes her head, realizing that she may well be losing sight of the real problem in her need to fully understand the situation. "The point is that I think the Club is important on some greater level. If there is some way for us to remove that power, then we should do it. But, I don't even know what the power is, if it exists. I could be completely wrong."

Lya scratches her head and chuckles. "I've read a book or two, Evie... the rest is all conjecture and plots from movies stuck in my head."

She walks passed Mika with a nod and closes the door to her office as Phoebe and Orithia flop down on the couch. "My guess is that because the events at the country club seem to happen in every reality, it's going to be the best spot for Loki and Fenris to do their thing and mash realities together to form their version of Ragnarok."

She grabs a pen and paper and writes a message before tossing it at Phoebe: _Ask Mika if Hitoshi has membership to the country club, or if she can arrange it for us._

"You know... like that spot in the west where if you stand there you're connected to four different states. I do have some good news to share with you guys, by the way. The board meeting went as well as could be! Selene tried to get Gregory to kill me because I think he's infected with Jotunblut (can you do anything about that Alex?), and Douglas Maxwell turned invisible and attacked us."

"And that's well, is it?" Evie asks with a laugh.

"Totally!" Lya replies. "The rest of the board was going to fight me until they saw those three go crazy. Now we've got them wrapped up with security, Klepto and Toxic are keeping an eye on them, I've got a new piece of jewelry from Maxwell, and I've got Arky and Karen Ryder ready to join me for a press conference on Monday to announce our new plans for the hotel."

She spins in her seat and props her shoes up on the desk. "And when _Phoebe gets back from talking with Mika,"_ she says pointedly as she looks Phoebe's way, causing Phoebe to sigh and roll her eyes before getting up and walking into the other room, "I can see about getting membership access to the country club, or at very least to the event the president will be throwing."

"No one's dead or in jail. Win!" Evie laughs again, happily soaking in the good news. "That should send them into a bit of a tailspin!"

"However, if Fenris is keeping an eye on his daughters, he may know that something is amiss before the news hits. We'll have to be super careful between now and Tuesday. If he feels at all threatened, I wouldn't be surprised if he makes a move against us early in order to make sure we can not stop the assassination. None of us should be alone, at this point," Evie says, her mood shifting to caution. Now, she watches her surroundings in earnest. Before, she had just been keeping a casual eye out, but knowing that Selene is being held changes things.

She presses her lips together and frowns, still trying to wrap her head around all of this,"So, if they are going to mash realities together...how are they planning on doing it without an anchor? Or...aw, shit. Maybe they do have an anchor in Hitoshi's reality."

"Maybe they have an anchor in Hitoshi," Lya replies grimly. "The Mimir told me that the only way to set Ragnarok back on track was to get Hitoshi to leave... so I will bet a glass of my best whiskey that's what is going to happen."

"Well...wait a minute. If setting Ragnarok 'back on track' means that it's still on, then maybe we're okay with Hitoshi being where he is. After all, after your second vision, we decided that Ragnarok doesn't even have to happen. So...maybe Hitoshi _not leaving_ is exactly what we need!" Evie glances across the tops of headstones and mausoleums as she speaks. "Maybe him being there will help prevent whatever is going to happen on his end. If he wasn't there, then Yakuza Hitoshi would roll along with whatever Fenris and Loki asked of him."

"Ragnarok is always on, and it always isn't. I took it more like 'setting things back to normal and without divine intervention'" more than anything," Lya replies. "At the very least the impression I got before the vision was interrupted by Guan-yin was that to stop this messed up version of Ragnarok from happening and replace it with the normal version of things would require Hitsohi to come home."

"Whether I can convince people Ragnarok never has to happen or not is going to have to wait until _after_ we stop the assassination," she chuckles dryly.

"I'm not sure it's Jotunblut. If Selene is one of Fenris' brood, she may just share her ... sister's? ... gift for manipulation. Soleil Hunter has the DA pretty well dazzled, and she's in the heads of most of the others. All that b.s. during Chris Clemens' re-election campaign about making the District Attorney's office lean and mean? She was stacking the staff with men she could influence," Alex says. "She also dropped a hint that she knew I was a Scion."

"Well the photos of Selene might've been released to the press, but her detainment has been kept under wraps at least until tomorrow night with the press conference," Lya replies as she twirls the phone cord with her finger. "Considering that whole 'Death to the Sons of Tyr' thing I figured they knew you were a Scion all along, Alex."

"But anyway... the country club," she continues as she leans back in her chair and runs a hand through her hair. "Evie's going to be there on police detail, right? I'm going to see if I can obtain some tickets to the charity event to get us in, but what about you, Alex?"

"Yeah, I'm also going to be there, tomorrow, for the setup and pre-event security sweeps. I'm going to use that opportunity to poke around, a bit. Knowing that Loki's crew owns it means that I expect there to be some secrets hiding there," she confirms.

"I got a complimentary membership when I joined the District Attorney's office. I hadn't heard that that was revoked when I left, so ... I can make a call and attend the fundraiser like anyone else," says Alex. "I'm worried about this train wreck of mystical woo, though. Is stuff going to start coming unglued as we get closer?"

"I have no idea," Evie shakes her head and throws up her free hand in a gesture of exasperation. "I miss the days of crime scenes and dead bodies. Those, I can deal with. All this magic and prophecy and timey-wimey, alternate dimension hoo-haa...it's so _nebulous._ It gives me a headache trying to sort it out."

"But, it is what it is," she says wryly. "I'll see what else I can snoop tomorrow. Can anyone think of anything else I should ask Thomas, while I'm here?"

"It always seems to on TV," Lya chuckles dryly as she rubs her temple. "I'm no temporal physicist, though... so I have no idea how to stop it other than yank Hitoshi back over to our side if we can and hope that takes care of it."

"So if Evie's going to be at the club early casing the place for the cops, we should be able to just show up as guests, and the Furies can cover as our assistants, drivers, dates, etc. Hey Evie... do you think you could tote my piece for me? I doubt the SS would allow we anywhere near the place carrying that thing. _You_ though, could probably get away with it."

"Yeah, I can probably get it in. I know the Secret Service is going to be thorough, but I doubt they are going to run any checks to make sure the firearms I carry are actually mine. Since I'm with PD, they may run a check to make sure I am who I say I am but, after that...I'll probably be clear," Evie answers.

"Fab!" Lya replies. "I'm not so worried about the girls... give them access to a cleaning closet and they can arm themselves faster than you can say 'girl fight.' So... anything else we need to coordinate before I get back to the CEO thing?"

"Are we all going to stay at the Westview, tonight? Not sure I want to go back to my apartment, what with the door still hanging off the hinges..."

"It's not like anybody is using Hitoshi's suite right now," Lya replies. "I'm always up for a sleepover. With everything getting ready to hit the fan, I'd feel more comfortable if the group was together, honestly."

"Me, too. I just need to run back home to pick up nice clothes for tomorrow. Anything else? Otherwise, I may chat with Thomas for a couple more minutes then I'll head back to the Westview," she says.

"I think we're good here," Lya replies. "I'll tell the front desk to send you on up when you arrive, Evie. You coming over for the sleep over, Alex? Might as well enjoy my new position while it lasts..."

"Phrasing!" Orithia yells out as Lya crumples up a piece of paper and throws it at her.

"My house is a pile of debris, and sleeping in a bed is preferable to another night on the sofa in my office," Alex says, then adds. "Preferably a bed where I don't have to wrestle Orithia for a pillow."

Lya laughs and winks at Orithia. "I think we can make arrangements where you can get a room with your own pillows."

"Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more!" Evie joins in the laughter. "What's a little pillow wrestling between friends? Am I right?"

"Okay, I'll be back in a few," Evie's laughter dies down to chuckles, the sound seeming odd in such a somber setting. She closes her phone and turns back to Thomas, who has been waiting patiently.

"Alright, it looks like we have a full couple of days. I have just one more question for you...I know you spoke to your brother about what was happening. Did you have any other confidants? Anyone else that you trusted to share this with and help you?" she asks.

"I've never made a habit of dropping my problems on others," Thomas said. "There's no one else. I didn't even tell my partner or my girlfriend. That one night, I so wanted to tell Stephanie the truth, and I realized that I couldn't. I couldn't up-end her world like that. So I bought those savings bonds and set them aside, just in case. I didn't know anything about saving the world, or even if I could save the world, but I knew that if I could, it wouldn't be for me."

He looks skyward.

"For a long time after ... after I died, I thought I was still here because the gods were punishing me. Because I'd screwed up. I don't know if this is a second chance, or the way things were meant to be. But whatever you need, if it's within my power, Detective ... Cousin ... you have but to ask."

Evie wishes that she could give Thomas a hug, at that moment. Everything he has said, she understands. It's part of why she hasn't told Saul or her family, along with the need to keep them safe. She nods and gives him a sympathetic smile, "I understand. I haven't told the people that I love, either."

She regards Thomas softly, thinking about what he has said, "I don't think you were being punished. I know that all this time had to have been hard on you. I can't imagine what it must be like, to always be here and, yet...be apart from everything and everyone. But, if I had to make a guess...I would say that you were left here to help us. You were our first clue that something was amiss, that some great disaster was bearing down on us. Being able to talk to you has been a great help. Without your knowledge and experience, we'd still be flailing around, trying to figure out who and what we were up against."

"Hopefully, if we're able to stop this nonsense on Tuesday, you'll be free," she grins. "If I haven't joined you in the afterlife, I'll come back here. And, if all is well, then you'll be gone. If not, well...then we'll keep working on it."

She chuckles, "I'm going to head on out. I need to go home and grab the monkey suit. Chief told me 'no T-shirts' for tomorrow's sweep. Pfft! Like being in an uncomfortable outfit is going to make me do my job better." Evie chuckles, sharing that small, shared work jest with a former officer. "Take care, Thomas."

"If I don't see you again, tell my half-brother ... Alex? ... tell him goodbye for me," Thomas says.

"I will," she smiles and turns to leave. Over her shoulder, she calls, "You better not be here when I come back, mister!"

Evie makes her way back out of the cemetery unmolested. No einjehar leap from behind mausoleums. No ghosts accost her. It is an empty place, as it should be. The only things it holds, today, are memories and one, lonely spirit.

* * *

The detective makes her way home and quickly gathers up her nice clothes - a dark, grey jacket and pants along with a cream-colored blouse to wear beneath. However, she does not grab pumps or heels because she simply doesn't own any. Instead, she sweeps a pair of grey sneakers that she had bought specifically for this outfit on top of the folded pile of clothes.

_I'll be damned if I'm going to be caught in uncomfortable shoes!_

As she is driving to the Westview, the phrase "power calls to power" keeps running through her mind. She's not sure what to make of it, but it seems terribly important. And, that sets her on edge. She keeps worrying at it, picking at it in her mind, turning it over and over, looking for some meaning.

"Ah, screw it. To the library, it is," she mutters, turning on her blinker so that she can make a U-turn at the next light.

Once she reaches the library, she sits in her car and shoots a text to Alex and Lya:

"At the library, doing some research. Will be home, soon."

The library itself is one of the few structures in Vegas that doesn't feel like a glitzy sham. It's an old, red brick structure with a well-manicured mini-garden in front. She walks in and immediately feels at home. Ah, the smell of paper and books! It's a glorious scent. It's the smell of knowledge, imagination and, many times, _answers._

Evie goes to one of the library computers and pulls up the electronic catalog. (One thing she doesn't miss about libraries are the old card catalogs.) She punches in searches for "associative magic, Nordic tradition and sympathetic magic." Hopefully, she can find something in there that might give her some clues, if not actual answers.

The shelves yield a surprising amount of metaphysical titles, though there are a couple of spectacular mis-categorizations, with a book on _Magic: The Gathering_ having found its way into the catalog.

There's Lisa Peschel's book on the runes, of course; D.J. Conway's _Norse Magic;_ several treatises on Snorri Sturlsson's work as a whole; and a couple of titles on J.R.R. Tolkien's use of Norse legend in crafting _Lord of the Rings.  
_  
But it is a fairly general title that provides the answer: Fraser's _The Golden Bough,_ a 1922 work that examined magic and religion from an academic standpoint. Fraser outlines two basic principles in magic, the Law of Similarity and the Law of Contagion.

The first stipulates that items that are similar can be used to invoke similar effects - a poppet therefore becomes the person the caster wishes to affect - and the second says that objects that have been in contact with each other remain linked - so clothing and possessions become avenues to employ magic, and 'personal concerns' - hair, fingernail clippings, etc - also become powerful tokens.*

Thus, a war in a reality where key elements correspond: location, time, individuals ... becomes an avenue to bend and shape our own.

Evie leans back in her chair and rubs the bridge of her nose. All of this is only telling her things that she had already guessed. Though, it is nice to have her theory confirmed, it still seems like there is a hole there, somewhere. If it were just a matter of locations and events lining up, all of this could be taking place anywhere in the world. Heck, Ragnarok could be bearing down on Hoboken if all it took was a convergence of places and events. After all, all the same stuff, but with variables, is also happening in Hoboken across all realities.

So, the key is the variables that happen here in Vegas. Certainly, the president's visit must be a central event. But, could there be other things in place aside from that which could disrupt whatever sympathetic magic is being used? Clearly, there must be a beacon of some kind to tie the two realities together. But, what could that beacon be? And, how do they go about finding it?

"Uuuugh," Evie leans back farther, letting her head fall back as she rubs the heels of her hands into her eyes. _And, none of this may even matter. I may be driving myself crazy chasing a tidbit of information that doesn't amount to a hill of beans, in the long run. How it is done may be irrelevant. But, here I am. Because...me._

"Evie, dear! It's good to see you," a quiet, quavery voice interrupts her thoughts.

Lowering her hands and sitting up, Evie finds herself facing an elderly woman who is wrinkled like an apple left in the sun too long. She smiles at Evie and reaches out to pat her shoulder, "It's been so long, dear! How is your brother?"

"Hi, Mrs. Williams," Evie smiles and pats the old librarian's thin hand. She has been a fixture here just about as long as she can remember. Evie has run into her time and again when doing research for cases and, of course, Ian treats the kind lady like a third grandmother. "Ian's fine. He's working on his PhD, at the moment. I'm surprised if he hasn't been in, recently...but, I suppose he uses the University's library mostly, now."

Mrs. Williams looks at the assortment of books on the table. "Is there something I can help you find, dear?"

"Thanks, but I don't think so," Evie gently closes the book she had been looking through. "I've got a cold case that involved some ritual. Just trying to figure out what might have been the perp's motivation, what they may have been thinking."

Mrs. Williams picks up some books that had been abandoned on a table beside Evie's and transfers them to her cart. Shaking her head, she says, "Such a job you have...looking at the darkness in mankind, all the time."

"It could be worse," Evie stands and picks up her books, moving them to the cart for the librarian. "I could be a _mime._" The detective gives a joking shudder, as though the very thought were repulsive.

"Oh!" Mrs. Williams laughs and gently pushes Evie's shoulder.

"Actually," Evie says thoughtfully, "I may want to go down and look at the newspaper microfiche."

She knows when Thomas died and when the Country Club was built. It might not hurt to take a look at the newspapers from around those times. Small, purely local events from those times probably wouldn't show up in internet searches, so she may have missed something.

_It can't hurt to look,_ she thinks, mentally sighing to herself. _Besides, what am I going to do at the Westview? I may as well spent my time searching, while I can. Today, I can look at the past. Tomorrow, I can look at the present at the Club._

The microfiche yields only the most peripheral of trivia - a photo of Armand Roget / Jason Lyman at the groundbreaking - and confirmation of what Thomas told you.

"Thanks a lot," you tell the microfiche reader. It's a love/hate relationship, of course - you've had cases break based on minutiae found in old newspaper accounts. But, here, it's a dead end.

"Ah, well," Evie mutters as she puts the microfiche away. It's not like it's the first time she's ever hit a dead end. If she let that deter her, she wouldn't be much of a detective, now would she?

_So, now what?_ she thinks as she absently waves to Mrs. Williams, giving her a parting smile. It's clear to the librarian, though, that the detective isn't really seeing her or anything else as she walks away, lost in her own thoughts.

_I suppose I could hit the database at HQ and search for missing persons around those times,_ she makes her way to her car and slides into the driver's seat. _But, what would that get me? I would have no way of knowing if anyone who was missing was a Scion. And, even if I knew, what would I do with that knowledge?_

Evie leans forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. "Fuck, fuck, fuck...I HATE this!" she growls.

At this point, Evie has no idea what is even possible, anymore. What is within the realm of reality and what is still clearly hokum? It's all blurred together and she doesn't know if the questions that she is asking are valid or not.

Can you build a power center with Scion parts? Don't know. Does it require a beacon draw the realities together? Don't know. Is having Hitoshi in the other realm enough of a draw to make the two realities come together because of sympathetic attraction? Don't know.

It's all coming together in a matter of a day and she has no idea what any of it really means, what is going to happen. Will preventing the president's assassination actually stop anything or just delay it? Can he just try again? Will Fenris pop to another realm and do it all over again?

Tears of frustration well up in her eyes. She's never felt so unsure of...well..._everything._ and so utterly useless.

"Fuck it. It is what it is. I show up at work tomorrow and do my best to secure the place. I show up Tuesday and do my best to stop an assassination," she sniffs and dashes the tears from her eyes.

Still, she turns her car towards HQ instead of the Westview. If she sits there, she's just going to keep worrying at everything. At least if she's at her desk, looking through the missing person's database, she's _doing_ something. It may ultimately be empty busywork, but at least she'll keep herself occupied.

"That's just twisted," you say to yourself.  
Just to be sure, you double check your findings. You double check the names, the spelling, the dates.  
Only someone as twisted and broken as Loki could have cooked this one up.

Your search has turned up missing persons reports for a number of people. Most of them are unremarkable. A murder case that was solved in less than a month.

And a young boy, age 6, whose name was Justin Holliwell.

Along with another child, a year later, sharing the name of the President.

Both of whom disappeared years ago ... this very night.

People. Places. Things.

It always starts with something small.

"Well, huh," Evie stares at the screen and heaves a sigh. So, Loki makes two kids disappear which creates a couple of holes in reality to be later filled by other namesakes.

_But, how does that even work? There have to be, at the very least, a few dozen people with those names in the world. So, how does one even know that the correct ones will fall into place...?_ she rubs a hand over her face._Stop it. Just stop. Don't worry about it. It's not important._

All her life, she has sought answers. Puzzles call to her and she has a deep-seated _need_ to figure them out. But, this time, she's been thrown into a situation in which she has no experience. And, she's getting angry at herself for not understanding.

On a purely intellectual level, Evie realizes how absurd her anger is. Would she be angry if someone asked her to design a house and she couldn't? No. She's not an architect. Would she be angry if someone asked her to defuse a bomb and she couldn't? No. She has no experience with bombs. So, why should she be upset over this? Certainly, over time she can gain the knowledge needed to grok all of this but she simply doesn't have that time, right now.

This does absolutely nothing to make her feel better, though.

"Ah, well.." she pushes her chair back and gets to her feet. Evie reaches over and shuts down her computer as she slides her chair under the desk.

The past has offered up nothing that will be useful in stopping the coming convergence. Perhaps, tomorrow, the present will show something.

Bone tired after her day of watching Hitoshi and then gaining nothing of use here in Vegas, she leaves the station and heads back to Westview.


	44. The Ghost Whisperer - Part 2

(Evie - Security Walkdown, Monday Morning)

"All right, let's get started," the Chief says. "This is Agent Moss, with the Secret Service. We'll be doing a walk-down of the property, securing areas and identifying other concerns. If there's something you think is getting overlooked, speak up."

The Chief beams. "Moss, these are my best people. Detective Evie Cartwright is one of our best investigators. Officers Carson, Patterson, and Anderson are patrol officers I'd put up against the best in any city."

"Good Morning," Moss says. "We have blueprints of the building, of course, and we'll point out areas that are no-go or which should be locked up tight. All of you will be extra sets of eyes for tomorrow. So, we'll have uniformed Secret Service officers using detector wands on guests. If someone trips those off, we'll move them to one side and do a more thorough check ..."

"Hey," Saul smiles, elbowing you gently. "You need help cleaning up your place, holler, 'kay?"

As Moss moves on towards another part of the tour, his speech temporarily ended until they reach their next destination within the Club, Evie smiles and whispers quietly, "I'll definitely need you to help me with sofa shopping. They did a number on Ol' Gaudy. I don't think re-upholstering will save him."

Saul nods in mock seriousness, "He was a good sofa. We shall keep a pillow in memory!"

Any further talk between the two subsides, though, as Moss leads the group into the main hall where the president will be giving his speech. The agent moves through the routine, pointing out checkpoints and where security will be stationed and giving everyone a rundown of how the president will be moved from one place to the next.

As they walk, Evie is looking for any windows that would allow for a good shot to be placed, someplace that the Secret Service might not immediately peg as a danger. After all, history seems to indicate that most shootings would happen during the speech or as the president is entering or leaving the building. But, she's not counting on Fenris to do the usual. No. He wants to make sure this thing is _done._ If that means picking off the president while he's walking down a hall, then that's what he'll do.

It would have to be a window with a clear, unobstructed shot along a path that they know the president will take, if such a thing exists*.

*It may well be that he'll be using fully interior hallways, so it might not be an issue.

he President's appearance will be in the main dining room, overlooking the golf course. The club manager explains that the President's helicopter will land on the expanse of lawn between the clubhouse and the greens, a nice open area not unlike the lawn of the White House. The buildings on the Strip are on the wrong side, and the treeline bordering the course can be secured by patrols. Not to mention there's the fence line on the extreme edges of the property.

Agent Moss outlines procedures, showing you how President Warner will enter and depart the building, as well as an alternative egress in case of emergency - out through the kitchens and to a waiting armored Chevy Suburban and escort.  
It all seems perfectly routine and ship-shape, except for the President standing at a podium within sight of the treeline. A long shot, perhaps, but one didn't become the top World War II sniper by phoning it in.

Once the tour is over, Moss hands over blueprints of the facility, "That's about it. You know the drill. Take a look around, see if you spot anything that looks amiss. If you find something, you report back to me. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Evie says as she accepts a copy of the blueprint.

Chief nods and turns to his team, "Alright, folks. You know what to do. I'll see you all back at HQ." Trusting his team to do their job, the Chief leaves to get back to sorting through all the tasks that have undoubtedly been building up on his desk while he was away.

"You heard the Chief. Let's start poking our noses into stuff," Evie hands out copies of the blueprints. 'Now, my first concern is that podium. It's right within sight of the tree line. I know, I know...someone would have to be a crack shot to make that. But, we don't take chances. I'll walk the treeline and make sure nothing looks funky."

"The rest of you, poke around. I'll be doing the same thing after I check outside. Wheeee, looking for strange stuff!" she chuckles. She doesn't feel the need to list out all the things that they should be checking. These are people she's worked with for a long time and trusts. They know their jobs.

In regards to the podium, Moss nods. "I agree ... but this is one of those things where politics wins out over common sense. If we move the podium, either the President is back-lit and hard to see, or he's staring out the window into the sun and squinting, which the press office hates."

On your way outside, you examine the glass. It's standard plate glass with an anti-glare film on it. A single shot would go right through it, unlike a botched hostage rescue in Sacramento, California where the thick glass doors starred but did not shatter, causing the bad guys to execute several of their hostages.*  
You drop a pin on your smartphone's map before realizing you won't need it. Thanks to the All-Father, you have an intuitive grasp of the distances involved.

You note the expanse of lawn where Marine One will land. Someone should go over the ground with a rake, just in case someone's tucked a surprise under the sod. You commandeer a golf cart and ride out to the tree line.

It's a sniper's paradise. Plenty of cover, and a direct line of sight to the clubhouse. The closest point is not the best angle, however, and you make a note of a better spot. You can explain it without having to say anything about paranormal Nazis and Norse legend - just your experience in law enforcement, and hoping Agent Moss agrees with you.

But there's something else. With everything riding on this moment in time and space, you're certain that you wouldn't stake it all on a single shot. You'd have a backup plan ...

Evie returns from her search and reports to Moss, giving him the coordinates of the spots where she feels that any attack would most likely originate.

After that, she decides to take a leisurely stroll through the club house itself...and to check the podium, specifically. It's one point here where it is guaranteed that the president will be that she can access. If she were going to store a surprise, that's where she would put it.

However, she's not limiting herself to that. She plans on checking every nook and cranny, even if it means taking all day. She'll not ask her fellow officers to stay beyond their allotted time but, she will, if necessary.

The podium is of a free-standing design that leaves no opportunities for 'surprises', although you trace the microphone lines to the house sound system, even checking the mats laid over the cords. Nothing.  
You check every room, every nook along the secondary egress, following it out through the kitchen. There's a neatly printed note taped to several spots, reminding kitchen staff that this specific area will be cordoned off and inaccessible for the duration of the President's visit.

And then you see the boy. Jeans, short-sleeved cotton shirt, tennis shoes. He's looking at you, quizzically, and points towards one of the rooms along the corridor ... 

_A kid? What's he doing here?_ Evie thinks for a moment. Then, she remembers...two boys disappeared. Could this be one of them in some form or another?

She moves to where the boy stands and glances down the hallway, making sure that she is alone. Very softly, she asks, "Hey. What's your name?"

However, she doesn't stand long. Instead, she moves to the room the boy indicates, hoping that he'll follow along. She tries the door...

The door is open. It's a small interview room with a table and several chairs, but little else.

"I'm Jacob Warner," the boy says. "You can see me! I knew you were special! You don't work here. Are you a Secret Service agent?"

Evie steps into the room and makes a small head gesture to Jacob, indicating he should follow her in. As his small body slips past her, she shuts the door to give them some privacy. If she keeps her voice low, perhaps anyone who does notice her speaking will think she's just mumbling to herself.

"No, I'm not Secret Service. I'm a police detective. My name's Evie and it's pleasure to meet you, Jacob," she smiles at the boy, assuming that he must be a ghost rather than a bleed-over from some other reality. If he's familiar with the staff, it would mean that he's been here a long time. And the invisibility thing. That would be a big hint, too.

"What happened to you?" she asks. Even as she speaks, her eyes are flitting about the room and she keeps an ear open for other people moving about in the hallway.

"Troll," Jacob says, looking down at the floor. "I was walking home, it was summer, so we were allowed to go out and play after dinner. It grabbed me and brought me out here, tossed me in a ditch. I knew things had broken, but then ... then he started shoveling dirt on top of me."

"So I can show up here, and show up at home, but no one can see me. Until you came along. You glow. Like some of the others, but not the same way, I guess. There's a blonde lady who shows up a lot, and one time she was with another guy. Some kind of business thing. Oh, and Justin. He's like me."

"A troll? Yeah, one of those got a cousin of mine, as well. They're a nasty lot," she gives Jacob a sympathetic smile.

She gives the boy a serious, appraising look, as though she is considering his abilities, "There's something bad that's going to happen here, tomorrow, and I'm going to try to stop it. That blonde lady who glows and the man she was with? They're going to try to kill the president and that's going to cause a whole chain of terrible things if they aren't stopped. Do you think that you could help me? I need someone here that no one else will notice to watch what happens. Warn me when the bad guys show up. Do you think you guys could do that?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" the youthful phantom says. He may be aware of the changing times, but the manners learned in his 1950's childhood shine bright. "There are a couple of guys in the kitchen who don't look right. They don't glow, but they ... don't feel right."

"I think it's where I'm buried, Ma'am," he says quietly. "Not that you could get to me without digging way down."

"Ah," Evie sighs softly. "I'll make sure that we find your body. Not sure how I'll justify digging this place up, but I'll get it done. I'll do the same for Justin. I should find him and talk to him, too, to find out where his body is."

She knows that this child has been alone for so very long and she should just be talking to him about...stuff. Being a friend while he waits to see if Evie and the team can free him. Hell, maybe even bring a board game and play something. She could move his pieces for him. On any other given day, she would do just that. But, not today. There's too much at stake and not a lot of time to prepare.

"Jacob, what about the men you saw in the kitchen? Do you know their names? Are they new to the club?" she asks.

"Frank and Johnny, but they're not from Chicago, if you take my meaning, Ma'am. It's like the movies - if you ask them who won the World Series four years ago, they're not going to know, because they're Nazi spies or something," Jacob says. "They've been here two, maybe three months. But I know something's fishy, because they don't look right. They don't glow like you and the other woman, almost the opposite."

"Einjehar," she says grimly. "They're dead warriors who have been summoned to help the other side. They're like tools, though...they're not good or bad. They just fight for whoever performs the proper rituals."

She gives a short snerk of amusement, "If they've been relegated to kitchen duty, I'm sure that's rankling for them, though. But...I'm sure they've been cooking up more than pastries and muffins. Let's go check the kitchen to see what's what. Maybe we'll run into Justin along the way."

"Oh," she turns to Jacob as she lays a hand on the doorknob, "I'm sure you know this already, but I'm not going to talk to you if people are around. I'm afraid they would just think I was nuts since they can't see you. But, I'm watching and listening, okay?"

"Okay. It's a secret!" Jacob smiles. He's a good kid, and a reminder of what's at stake in the battle to prevent Ragnarok. "They're not cooks or wait staff. They bus tables and do dishes. I bet Justin is in the dining room. He likes to read the newspaper over people's shoulders."

Jacob waggles his fingers to explain why the boy would be shoulder surfing.

Evie can't help but laugh at that. The little scamp! No doubt there have been plenty of people coming through the club who, unbeknownst to them, were just a teensy-weensy, slight bit sensitive to the spirit realm. And those people get to experience heebie-jeebies as Justin merrily hovers over their shoulders.

"If we see Justin, tell him to follow along and I'll talk to him when we are alone," Evie finds herself still chuckling softly at the idea of Justin and his harmless prank.

The detective makes her way down the hallway and to the dining room, intent upon going to the kitchen and looking around. However, she will also check the dining area. After all, if the einjehar have been busing tables, they've had plenty of opportunity to set something...she doesn't know what, yet...up in that area.

It's so blatant that it's like a punch in the face. The two Einjehar might as well be wearing signs, though to all appearances, they are diligently attending to their assigned duties. As Jacob described, there is something 'off' about them, like a haze making them seem indistinct, even though regular spirits - even Edward McCain - have appeared to you normally.

It doesn't make sense that they would be there to slip something beneath a table. But if the sniper's shot were to go awry, the President would take the alternate route ... through the kitchen, and into an ambush. Fenris is stacking the deck.

You ponder what to tell Agent Moss, if anything. 

_Huh. Well, what do I do about this? I can't very well tell Moss about the sniper or these guys. How would I have any information about a sniper? If I said anything, I'd just wind up in detention which would keep me away, tomorrow. And, my saying something wouldn't even guarantee that he would act on it before confirming it. With the DA involved, there would be no confirmation of it, either._

_I can't just point out the busboys and say, 'Believe me, they are bad spirits.' And, it's not like they have done anything wrong. I have no reason to investigate them._

As she thinks, Evie wanders into the kitchen, intent on looking the place over for anything else amiss. Hopefully, the einjehar will simply go about their tasks, for now. She can't imagine that they would jeopardize their position by attacking her, at this point.

_Is there some excuse I could manufacture to convince Moss to have the kitchen and dining staff replaced with his own people?_ she muses as she opens cabinets and peers inside. _Eh, he'd never agree to it. It would take too much time and money to ship down staff from DC. And, with the fund-raiser happening, they are going to have to have civilians to serve food and drink.  
_  
_Shoot. I think this one may just be something for Team Scion,_ she frowns, unable to think of a good way to manipulate Moss into adjusting security. Any problem she suggests will be considered too unlikely or too expensive/inconvenient to warrant moving on.

_With me being part of security, I can probably finagle being close to the president during his speech. Since I know the attack is coming and where the attack is likely to come from, hopefully I can intercept the bullet,_ inwardly, she winces at that thought. Alex would be a better fit for that since he can heal himself, but there's no way he's getting close enough. There's no evidence she can heal but...you do what you have to do.

_Maybe we can put a couple of the Furies on patrol around the tree line. And, if Lya and Alex are in the dining room, hopefully they can handle those weird einjehar,_ she makes a mental note to mention them to Lya and Alex. Perhaps they have some explanation for why they appear different.

_And, I have the added advantage of an invisible spy. Well, unless the einjehar can see Jacob...which they might, being dead themselves. But they don't know that __**I**__ can see them. Perhaps with Jacob and Justin running lookout at the tree line and the kitchen, we'll have forewarning._

"Justin? Justin! Hey, Squirt, where are you?" Jacob calls out.

"Over here, Jake," calls a younger voice, but there's confidence and knowledge behind it.

You see a smaller boy, dressed in his Sunday best, waving to you from the dining room entrance.

"You're Detective Cartwright, Ma'am?" he asks. "I was hiding under the table and listening in. The President! That's cool!"

Evie moves toward Justin and gives him a wink as she passes. If he was hiding, then he also knows about their secret, that she won't speak while in the open. She walks down the hallway and back towards the empty meeting room. Opening the door, she finds it still vacant. But, she expected that. Today being what it is, not many people would be using the club while the secret service secures everything.

Once both boys have entered the room, she smiles at Justin and says, "Yes, I'm Detective Cartwright. And, it actually is pretty darned cool, I agree."

She chuckles and continues, speaking quietly, "So, if you were listening then you already know everything I told Jacob. I've looked over everything and there's no hard evidence that anything will happen out of ordinary, tomorrow. While I know what is going to happen, there's nothing I can tell the secret service that they are going to believe. So, it's all going to come down to a secret team...that you are now part of."

Evie looks between the two boys and continues, "There will be two other people here, tomorrow, who are like me. They'll glow. One is a man named Alex. He has light brown hair, is a smidge taller than me and will be wearing a black scarf. The other is a woman named Lya. She's much shorter than me, with black hair that has a white streak and she has grapevine tattoos. Now, Alex will be able to see you, but Lya won't."

"I need you two to be extra eyes and ears, letting us know when you see things that are strange. Now, I know that there will be a sniper out in the trees, tomorrow. Can either of you go as far as the trees?"

"I think so," Jacob says. "Let me check. Come on, Justin." Both boys blink out of sight. A moment later, they reappear.

"We can, but ... it's the edge of the property, and it feels weird," Jacob says. "I think we do better closer to where we died."

"Yeah, but it's the President, Jake!" Justin says. "What's a sniper?"

"It's like going hunting," Jacob tells the other boy.

"Oh. That's bad," Justin frowns.

"When do you want us out there, Ma'am?" Jacob asks.

"I just need one of you there and not for the whole time. You don't even have to be all the way out there. You just have to be able to see the treeline well."

"I need to know when the bad guy with the gun shows up. You would only be there when the president goes out on the lawn for his speech and then come to me immediately when you see the bad guy," Evie says. "I know it feels weird and I wouldn't ask you to do it if it wasn't important. I just need to be able to narrow down _when_ I'll have to act. I'm going to be trying to move faster than a bullet, after all."

"I need whoever stays here to watch the kitchen and dining room. If you see anything weird at all, go talk to Alex. I'll tell him about you, tonight, so that he knows who you are and will expect to see you. But, just like now, he probably won't be able to talk out in the open. Just tell him what you see."

She gives the boys a gentle, grateful smile, "You two have no idea how much you are going to help and how much I appreciate it. If I could hug you, right now, I would!"

The boys nod.

"This is neat!" Justin says.

"Uh-huh," Jacob tells him. "It's just like _Dragnet_."

They wave, and then run off. They pass through several people on the way out.

_Oh, well,_ Evie thinks with exasperated amusement. She had been going to ask Justin where he was buried, but that can wait. The two may have been dead for several decades, but they were still boys.

Refocusing, Evie moves to trace out the alternate escape route, looking for anything else that may be amiss. More than likely, there won't be any physical evidence, at all. After all, Fenris has a Nazi sniper set up outside and strange einjehar waiting inside. He probably figures that is enough without leaving something for the Secret Service to find. Still, Evie checks. Because...Evie.

As she pokes around, she rolls options over in her mind, _Trying to block a bullet after the shot is going to be nigh impossible*. Maybe if I see the flash, that will give me enough warning but...highly doubtful. Maybe I should walk the perimeter, tomorrow? I know where the most likely places he'll set up are. But, there's still no guarantee that I'll get to him before he places the shot. I can only be in one place at a time. If I set up at one spot, he'll just move to another. And, I sure as hell am not going to ask other officers to make this walk with me. I'd just end up with dead friends..._

_I'll talk to Lya and Alex, tonight. Maybe they'll have some ideas._

After an hour or so of poking about the property, Moss seems satisfied.

"Well, then. We'll see all of you tomorrow morning," he smiles. He nods. "I know. If you're new to this, your head may be spinning with what-ifs and maybes. There's a lot we can rule out simply because we're on the ground in numbers, and that raises the bar for the bad guys. Every nut and kook who flaps their gums on social media, or who goes on a mad shopping spree helps us identify risk factors and establish strategies.

"Our people will be vetting media starting at 6AM. We'll muster at 8AM, have a quick chalk talk. Staff members arrive no later than 9AM, doors open at 10:30. President arrives at 11:30, lunch, some brief remarks, and we're done."

Evie sighs inwardly. Normally, Moss would be right. But, this time...not so much. She wishes that she could share what she knows but she simply can't think of a way to frame the information that won't get her detained or wind up sounding crazy. Oh, well...

She makes note of the schedule for tomorrow. Though she technically doesn't need to be here until 8AM, she decides that she'll probably show up at 6AM. Can't hurt to be early and prepared.

The rest of the team starts to leave the club house, probably all headed to lunch before continuing the rest of their day patrolling. Evie waves and calls good-byes to her fellow officers as they disperse in the parking lot. All except for Saul, who still walks by her side, escorting her to her car.

"So, what do you think about tomorrow?" he asks.

"Well," Evie answers carefully. "No one found anything strange. You and the boys did a bang up job of making sure everything is secure. If something goes wrong, it won't be because we slipped up, I can tell you that." She shakes her head and laughs, continuing "But, yeah...it's going to be a circus. These things always are."

"Ain't that the truth," Saul chuckles and turns slightly, so that he is walking backwards while he talks to Evie. "You want to head out for lunch?"

"I'd love to, but I need to do some research for a case," Evie counters with a smile.

"Oh, come on! You're off duty until tomorrow. We can hit that new Mongolian barbecue place," he stops and gently grabs Evie's head in his hands. He leans in close to her and says, "Stop. Working. For like...10 minutes. Come eat with me."

"I'd love to, Saul! I really, really would! But, I think this is probably the best time of the day for me to do it. If I wait until later, then my resources are going to be unavailable," she replies.

As he lets go of her head and sighs in exasperation, Evie reaches out to rest a hand softly on his chest, an idea occurring to her, "But...I think I might be around for dinner. How about we get take out and you come over to the Westview with me? We can sit in a posh bed, eat, and watch Sharknado 3."

"The Westview?" Saul raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Evie laughs. "It helps that I'm friends with the CEO. Since my apartment is a mess, she's putting me up until it gets sorted. What do you say?"

"I do believe, ma'am, that we can call that a date!" Saul takes her hand in his briefly, giving it a squeeze. "I'll see you, tonight, then."

He lets go and starts to stride off towards his cruiser. As Evie opens her car door, she hears him call out from a couple rows over, "Hey! Evie! Evie, Evie, Evie!"

"What?" she laughs.

"I've got a joke for ya."

"Oh gawds...okay, what is it?" she laughs and leans against the car.

"Why do you never hear a pteradactyl go to the bathroom?" Saul asks, his face split in a goofy grin.

"Why?" she asks, amused.

"Because the "p" is silent! Hah!" Saul immediately starts laughing at his own joke, the color high upon his cheeks. The sound is like music to Evie.

"That's awful!" she calls back, though she, too, is laughing. Giggling, she waves at him, "Just go, you! Get out of here. The p is silent...pfft!"


	45. The Rumor Mill

Lya taps her phone against her lips as she ponders her next move. "Mika!" she calls out to the next room. "Can you get me the number for Mrs. Pelletier? And how are we on those tickets for the country club event?"

"Might as well try and meet on the bridge before I decide to burn it," Lya mutters to herself. "I just hope she's willing to listen to my board suggestions..."

A text flashes on Lya's smartphone. It's a share of an electronic business card, or several of them - for the remaining members of the Board and Karen Ryder.

"That should do for essential contacts," Mika says, returning to the board room. "I have acquired the necessary tickets for you and the Furies. The Club will be open at 10AM, with the President's speech at 11:30, followed by lunch."

You call Amelie Pelletier's number.

"Hello, Lya," she says. "I'm down in the Medical Center with Gregory, who is awake and remembers what happened, but doesn't know _why_ he did what he did. However, our former associate Selene Chase, if those photos are genuine, appears to have a knack for ... compromising men. I'm rather surprised she didn't try to get her hooks into James or Hitoshi."

"Gotta love a man of discipline," Lya replies and sighs. "I'm willing to concede that Gregory couldn't help himself because of Selene, and I will keep his name out if it if he's willing to take an extended vacation."

She spins around and gazes out the window over Las Vegas. "I want to make this hotel even greater than it was, Amelie. I've already asked Karen Ryder to step up to fill one of the board spots, and my cousin Arky is an extraordinary artist who will be our new art director. My band will perform regularly, and I can swing more of the latest acts! All it takes is a little faith."

"Yes, well ..." Amelie says. "I am amenable to changing things. There is always a danger of becoming just another casino on the Strip. Hold on a moment."

You can tell she's walking out of Gregory Mason's hearing.

"I have no objections to nominating Karen Ryder to the Board. I'll reserve an opinion on your cousin until I've met the young man."

"Well you're in luck then, because he's coming to meet all of us Monday around 4:30 for our meeting before the press conference," Lya replies happily. "You won't regret it, Amelie... I swear. This city needs a reminder of the _good_ this life can bring, and I believe we can give it to them if we work together."

She hops out of her chair and grabs her staff as she motions to Phoebe and Orithia and walks out the door of her office. "I believe Gregory and I should stay away from each other until we're sure whatever affected him is out of his system... but if you see anything odd about his behavior in the meantime, I hope you'll share it with me, Amelie. I look forward to our next meeting!"

She covers the phone briefly as she leans over to Mika. "Do you know a good place to get clothes for a swanky charity function? If I go in wearing my leathers they're going to grab me quicker than you can say "democratic protester."

"The Concourse has several boutique stores that should have something suitable," Mika says. "I can accompany you and approve purchases on behalf of the Westview."

Lya sighs in relief. "That would be fantastic. I'm used to dressing for concert performances, not political functions." She gestures at Phoebe and Orithia. "I'll need to get outfits for them too, so they can look like the professionals they are. And hey... has there been any new word about Selene and Douglas? As much as I'd like to lock them in a room and forget about them, I think that job will belong to the authorities."

She leans down and in a mock whisper says "Might want to let our local FBI branch know so they can take them for questioning, what with those scandalous photos of them and Senator Malcolm going around."

She goes to leave but then suddenly remembers one more thing as she turns and taps on Mika's desk. "Oh yeah... make sure they know not to let her talk to _anybody_ face to face. If they question her, they need to do it over closed circuit TV or something."

"The Japanese culture is very big on dressing for success," Mika smiles. "We'll make sure you present the right image. Business, but just a little nod to the real you."

"I will see to it that the FBI is made aware of the particulars," she adds, after hearing your warning about Selene. "But I cannot promise they will be smart enough to listen."

"More fool them if they don't," Lya mutters under her breath. "Next time I won't be so kind."

"Anyway, sounds good, Mika. I know the general sizes for Toxic and Klepto, so we'll have to make due as I don't want Selene and Douglas left alone until the FBI comes to get them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
(Monday Afternoon)

Although Arky looks good in slacks, polo shirt, and blazer, it's clear 'dressing up' is not one of his favorite activities. Still, he's got his father's charismatic glow - the robust, classically handsome mien of a Greek god, and you catch several female reporters giving him more than a casual glance.

"Quite the turnout, Lya," he smiles. "Must be a slow news day."

He hands you an envelope.

"My resume, for reference. In short, I've got a Bachelor's in Architecture from Loyola. I didn't like the corporate environment, though. Too stifling, and you start making decisions based on what makes money for the firm, not your art," he says. "Tawny has a portfolio with some examples of my work, and some sketches I did the other night - not anything definite, just some ideas for kicking around."

The rest of the board is waiting for you, listening as you make introductions. They recognize Karen Ryder, of course, and do not seem put off by Arky.

"We have a quorum," Amelie Pelletier says. "I see no reason why we shouldn't proceed with a vote. All in favor of Karen Ryder joining the Board of Directors?"

There was a simple show of hands.

"And Russell Keller?"

Another affirmation.

"We'll leave the question of Gregory Mason's continued participation on the table for the moment, unless Lya would like to settle the matter?" Amelie says.

"First off I want to thank the board for meeting with me on short notice and voting in favor of Mrs. Ryder and Mr. Keller," Lya replies with a sincere smile. "As to the matter at hand, Gregory Mason has been a valued contributor to the Grandview in the past. Due to the extenuating circumstances surrounding Selene Chase and Douglas Maxwell and any mental repercussions Gregory might yet be suffering from because of them, I recommend that he take this time to be with his family and have a well-deserved extended vacation. After a trial period of 2 months and regular counseling, if he is medically cleared and up to it he will be welcome to return in my eyes."

"What, exactly, did Selene do to him? Do we know?" asks one board member. "I mean, she's always been a 'Hello, kiss-kiss' kind of person, but I've seen that in the workplace before."

"If Lya approves, I will speak to Gregory again," Amelie says. "He claims not to remember what happened. It all sounds a bit like Hollywood hypnosis to me. Gregory may be many things, but he is the former CEO, and I would hate to lose a man with his business acumen. At the same time, I do not want this to about personal sentiment, as he was instrumental in bringing several of us onto the board, myself included."

"I am amenable to leaving this as an executive decision by Ms. Bach, and not an issue settled by vote."

"Hypnosis is one way to put it," Lya replies. "She's dangerous, and has the ability to manipulate and twist people in ways to make the Devil jealous. She probably manipulated her way onto the board in order to try and influence the rest of you."

She looks around at the other board members. "If there are no objections, then, we can have the company draw up an agreement for Gregory's attorney to sign summarizing our proposal for his extended leave complete with an NDA so we can keep his unwilling participation in this mess within the company." There are murmurs and nods around the table, but no one speaks up.

"Very well then," Lya continues with a smile as she gestures to Arky. "As to the next matter of business, I would like to know the boards feelings as to the redesign of the hotel that we have in mind. I can't help but feel that with the cold and impersonal technological age we're in, this city needs a welcoming place that stands out from the crowd."

She puts both hands on the table and leans forward as she gazes at the board members. "That's why I want to change the name to _The Acropolis._ In ancient times it was a place where people could stay and worship the many different gods of the age while surrounded by music, art and culture... and the people need something like that again." She shrugs. "Maybe not to worship Gods... but at least to come together and remember why we're constantly working our asses off to earn a paycheck."

"What are we looking at, as far as construction?" asks one board member. "We'll be hitting Spring Break in a couple of months, and then dive right into the Summer Vacation push. We can't afford to lose ground by being closed."

"We won't be closed at all," Arky smiles. "All of the facades can be done with minimal impact on our ... what do you call it, operational status. Some minor cosmetic changes at several venues. The President's Club would remain as it is, for example, as would any named franchise. But I'll advocate designs that are friendly to our intent as well as our bottom line."

Tawny handed out a presentation folder of conceptual sketches. For all that Arky said he'd put them together the night before, they aren't just scribbles, but fully visualized reworkings of the property, and you realize Arky's gifts include his father's artistic vision. The lobby becomes a brighter, seemingly larger space, even more opulent than the oak-paneled richness of the current decor - all without making it feel aloof or pretentious.

"This is ... amazing," another board member said, looking through the designs. "Your mural of the entire pantheon - did you use models? I mean, I feel like the images are ready to step off the page."

"I spent a summer in Greece a few years back, visiting some distant relatives," he smiles. "The pantheon is based on some studies I did."

You, of course, know all of the portrayals are true-to-life, because that's certainly Dionysus. And Artemis has that same feeling of wildness that the Furies do.

"Amazing. You could put up a show at the gallery."

"I've thought about it," Arky smiled.

"What kind of fees are you asking, Russell?" Amelie Pelletier asked.

"My salary as a member of the board and materials," Arky said. "Which won't be a lot, as far as the murals go. Everything else budgets as you would a regular remodeling project."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. This is my passion. It's a creative outlet, not _work,_" Arky said. "I mean, if the board feels obligated to pay above and beyond, I'd prefer support for a vocational training charity I've worked with in the past."

Lya beams at Arky and catches the smiles and nods of approval of the Furies behind her out of the corner of her eye. "These look fabulous, Arky. Glad to see my ideas are contagious!"

There's a sound of a faint groan behind her as she looks over her shoulder at Toxic. "Too soon," she mouths.

Lya chuckles and turns back to the board members with a clap of her hands. "If we're all in general agreement of how we're going to handle Selene, Douglas and Gregory as well as the future plans for this hotel, then I think we're ready to put on the good front together and deal with the press conference. Touch up your make-up, ladies and gentlemen... it's time to get the show started."


	46. Eve of Destruction

(Lya, Evie, Alex - Monday Evening)

"Is it just me, or does it _feel_ like we're really on the brink of Ragnarok?" Alex asked. "I mean, we know Loki, or Lyman, or Roget, or whatever name he's using this week has been working towards this for decades, but I was schlepping some stuff over from my office and it didn't feel normal at all."

"I grok," Arky says. "There's a part of me, the human side, I guess, that doesn't want to think about it ... and then, the divine part of me is all, '... but it is not THIS day!'"

Lya had pitched her ideas for the renovation of the Westview, as well as a few pre-emptive shots at their opponents, then - at Amelie Pelletier's insistence - suffered through a dinner with the rest of the board.

"Power calls to power," breathes Evie. "We're feeling it because of our divine blood, just as we all have callings that seem stronger than those of our colleagues. A divine spark, a need to see justice done, whatever. And maybe our trip to Asgard got something rolling, as well."

"Oh, yeah. I did the pilgrimage thing a few years back, the backpack and hostel route," Arky said. "Went on a tour of Delphi. I didn't really know _what_ to expect, and then, _boom_ \- had some really trippy dreams, and when I woke the next morning, I had to climb Olympus. Had to. I think being on sacred ground energizes you somehow."

Evie smiles wistfully and nods, "I want to go back to the Bifrost, at some point. I really liked it there. It was quiet and I could see everywhere. Granted, I didn't always like what I saw but...it felt right."

"Oh, Alex," Evie reaches out to tap her cousin on the arm. "We're going to have a little ghostly help, tomorrow. It turns out that back in the 50's, Loki (or Fenris) had two boys abducted and killed - Justin Holliwell and Jacob Warner. Removing them made way for the later Holliwell and Warner to come in to fill that 'hole' in Vegas, tying them _here._ "

"Anyway, Justin and Jacob's ghosts are tied to the club since they are buried under it. They have agreed to help us keep an eye on things tomorrow, give us warning when anything weird is going down that we might not immediately see."

She leans back in her seat and nibbles on a biscuit to tide her over until Saul can get away from work, "Speaking of weird...there are two einjehar who are posing as busboys in the dining room. They're there to stop Warner from escaping through the back-up route - through the dining room and out the kitchen - should the sniper attack fail. But, they are not like anything I've seen before. They're all...wavery. They've got this black, blurry aura. I have no idea what it means."

Alex considers for a moment. "Well, the first time we saw an Einjehar was when Hitoshi took one apart. I can't say I noticed if he was blurry or not. Maybe it's connected to our being able to see ghosts."

"Wow. Kill two kids in the 1950's to set up events decades later? That's twisted," Arky says. "But then, we are talking Loki, right?"

"Oh, by the way, I called. I have two tickets for tomorrow's shindig," Alex said. "So I can bring someone in if I need to."

"They're good kids, too," Evie replies to Arky. "I'm hoping that, if we are able to end this, tomorrow, that will set them free. If not, maybe Alex can help them."

"Good," she turns to Alex. "We're going to need all the help we can get. As it stands, I'm probably going to be the closest to the president when he's giving his speech, since I'm on security. Which means I'm going to try to cover him when the sniper attack comes."

"I walked the perimeter of the grounds and found a couple of prime spots for Mr. Nazipants to set up," she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the blueprint of the club, which she never returned. Evie starts building the outside layout around the blueprint, using sugar packets and forks to represent things she needs. "Okay, so...the treeline is going to be here...and the podium here...uh...not perfect, but it'll have to do. Anyway, _here_ and _here_are the two spots where he's mostly likely to be."

"I hate to sound patronizing and all manly-man, Evie, but you are not catching a bullet," Alex says. "Especially one from a sniper rifle. Krieger will wait for that split second that you're not bloc- whoa, now, there's an idea. Hang on, let me sort this out ..."

Alex mumbles to himself for several minutes.

"We have an edge. Lya, Arky, Rikke - they're all seers. You and I, Evie, have drunk from Mimir's Well," Alex explains. "We've either seen the moment, or we _can_. It's part of that 'it feels real' thing I was talking about. You can't necessarily predict every spin of a roulette wheel, but the moment that kicks off Ragnarok? You _have_ to be able to see that."

Evie snorts good-naturedly at Alex's manly-man comment, "I'd rather not catch a bullet, either. As far as I know, I don't heal. In the words of Daffy Duck, pain hurts me. But, I'll do what I have to do..."

"I'm not sure that I follow," Evie says. "So, you think that as we get closer to the moment, that we'll have...I don't know...a vision...of what will happen? Flash-fowards?"

"I'm saying we might _already_ know," Alex says. "We're not playing at being dial-a-psychic. Lya and Arky and Rikke all have a gift of prophecy, as real as the gods. If not, it's one of those moments where you do something without knowing why, precisely, but it happens to be the right thing at exactly the right moment."

"Then we set up our plans and when it happens, we'll be where we need to be, regardless," Evie nods. "Follow your gut."

"Welp, no matter what, this is all the information that I have," she gestures to the condiment bedazzled blueprint. "Other than knowing we have a sniper in the wings, two einjehar in the dining room and two helpful ghosts...the place was clean as a whistle."

"The schedule tomorrow is 6AM press, 8AM muster. Staff arrives at 9AM, doors open at 10:30. Warner arrives by chopper at 11:30, lunch, closing remarks and then everything's done."

"I plan on showing up early, between 6 and 8. I know I don't technically need to be there that early, but I want to keep an eye on things," she says.

"Now there you go talking about that predestination stuff again," Lya mutters around a bite of bread before grabbing her drink and taking a sip.

She sets the drink on the table and leans back in her chair. "If we're all believing that 'whatever happens is what's supposed to happen' then there's no point in us planning any of this. We might as well just go our separate ways and show up at the country club... right?"

"Look..." she sits forward and gestures at the blueprints. "We know that the assassination attempt of the President is going to happen at the Country Club because that's where it _always_ happens." She stabs at the table with her finger. "Other than that, though... we have no idea what _else_ is going to result from this other than maybe Alex and Fenris going mano e mano and Fenris getting the short end of the stick. It's up to us to take the future into our own hands and make it happen the way _we_ decide it to happen."

Klepto claps a hand on Lya's shoulder as she sits back in her chair. "Those suits got you all tense, didn't they?"

Lya sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "You have no idea. I don't like having to play the manipulation game... makes me feel like I need a shower to get all the smarminess off of me."

She reaches into her inner suit pocket and pulls out an e-cig that she starts puffing on as she ponders Evie's layout of the country club. "Anyway... I've got tickets to the shindig already, so I am thinking that I could bring Arky with me considering he's now part of the board and all." She winks at her cousin.

"Where do we come in?" asks Toxic.

"I figure if we wait until the action happens, you guys can be brought in via summoning all equipped and ready to go," Lya replies.

"Nice... no need to worry about weapon searches from security that way."

"Yeah... just don't go getting yourselves shot by the secret service because they think you're one of the bad guys," Lya warns.

"I don't think what Alex is suggesting is fate and predestination and whatnot," Evie counters. "I think it's more like, we'll sense when shit's about to hit the fan and move into place to counter it without thinking."

She furrows her brow for a bit as she tries to decide a better way to explain, "I think it's sort of like martial arts. You do it enough and you have the muscle memory of how a kata should feel and what it counters. You stop thinking about it, after a while. When it comes time to use it, you just _do._ It's not because you are destined to do that particular move...it's just that it's so ingrained that you do without thought."

"Since we drank from the Well, it's sort of like we have a muscle memory of the coming Ragnarok. We can still change it or stop it altogether...or, we could lose horribly...but we'll feel when it's near."

"Does that make sense?"

"Yeah I get it," Lya replies as she leans her head back and puffs a cloud of clove smelling for into the air. "I just don't like everyone calling it Ragnarok is all. This _isn't_ Ragnarok, because Ragnarok is a scenario made-up by an old man blinded by his own preconceived notions about how the world works."

She grabs her drink and takes a swig. "This is a bunch of assholes too big for their britches trying to bring about the end of the world because they'd rather be rulers of a pile of rubble than serve in this one." She sets her glass down rather harshly on the table. "Giving it a pretty name doesn't change that."

"Fair enough. I call it Ragnarok because I don't really have any other names for it," Alex says. "End-of-the-world-palooza? Apocalypsestock? Burning Everything? That we've come this far suggests there are forces even the gods don't fully understand. Maybe the universe itself has a say in things."

"I know some of my old Army buddies would laugh. They believe in what they can see, and what they can hit. I think we need to kick that up a notch. We're not _trying_ to stop this, we're _going_ to stop this. If the moment is that critical, either outcome is going to shake the pillars of Heaven and Earth."

"Here's to the Army and the Navy, and the battles they have won*," quipped Arky. "Saw the movie. So, a good night's sleep, or whatever it is you do before a fight, and in it to win it bright and early?"

" I dub it, The Endening," Evie grins. "It's like the Happening, only with fewer upset trees and more Nordic badassery."

It's at this point that Evie's phone rings. She glances at the phone and says, "Excuse me for a minute."

"Hey, so...what's up?" she stands and moves away so as not to disturb the others while they continue to chat. "Yeah, I'd definitely still like dinner, but I know it's getting late. Totally understandable if you want a rain check."

She listens for a second and seems to think, "Well, you know, you could swing by home, grab a fresh uniform and pick up some Thai on the way over. Then, just stay with me. Hell, we're going to the same place, tomorrow. May as well. We're both going to be beat by the time we eat and watch a movie. No sense in you driving home."

There is another pause and then Evie laughs, "Because, contrary to popular belief we're both adults. Dork!"

"Uh-huh. Okay. See you in a bit, then," she chuckles and closes the phone, coming back to sit with the crew.

"Okay, so...yeah. Sleep and The Endening. Anything that we need to plan?" Evie makes a small "oh" and turns to Lya, "When do you want me to take your gun? Want to keep it on you, tonight, and I'll wake you up in the morning to get it?"

Lya snorts. "I like to call it 'Fenris' Follies' myself. As to what we like to do before a fight..."

Orithia chuckles as Toxic mutters under her breath "Here we go again..."

"You all know where my room is." She winks at Arky.

"I'm thinking it might be easier if Klepto carries it in for me when I summon them," Lya replies to Evie. "That way you don't have to deal with any questions for carrying a non-issue piece."

"Good idea," Evie chuckles. "You'd think that I would be used to the idea of summoning them, by now, but I always wind up forgetting."

"It's cause she can't live without us," Orithia chuckles.

"Wouldn't want me to miss you guys, would you?" Lya asks sweetly with a bat of her eyelashes.

"Can't miss us if we're never gone," Toxic replies as Lya throws a crumpled napkin at her head.

"I'm just glad that means I don't have to wear what passes as business wear to this thing," Klepto chuckles as she picks at the blouse and miniskirt she wore for the press conference. "When I conduct business, I prefer to be wearing at _least_ leather armor."

"If we're able to bring our weapons," Phoebe adds thoughtfully, "Then I should bring my bow and focus my attentions on the sniper."

"He's got a longer range than you, Phoebe," Lya warns. "You better be careful."

"He is not the only one who knows how to hunt," Phoebe replies with a nod.

"Besides, I'm going to be with her," Orithia adds with a smile and a clap of Phoebe's shoulder. "You're going to need someone to watch your back."

"That leaves me and Toxic for the inside with those Jotunblut then," Klepto finishes.

"Don't care how big the giants get... they still fall when you take out their Achilles tendons," Toxic grunts before raising her empty glass to flag down a waiter for another beer.

"I'll handle crowd control and provide back-up to whoever needs it inside, which leaves Evie to focus on the President and Alex with Fenris. Sounds like a plan to me!" She claps her hands together and smiles. "Of course it's probably all going to go tits up 10 minutes in... but at least we've got a semblance of a plan, right?"

She grabs her keys off the table and her staff from the back of her chair before bowing to everyone with a flourish. "I bid you lords and ladies all a good night. See you all at breakfast!"

"It will have to do," Alex says. "Besides, staying up all night worrying about it won't change anything."

"Sounds like a plan, to me!" Evie smiles. "I'll see you at the fundraiser. I'll probably be gone before you even wake up, tomorrow."

With that, Evie also pushes herself back from the table, "I'm running out, real quick, to grab dessert and entertainment. I think I'm going to run by PegaSweets. Anyone want anything?"

PegaSweets is a bakery and confectionary shop just down the strip that serves some of the best cheesecake in Vegas, though it's only well known by the locals. It's a quirky, little place tucked back behind some larger buildings where it can easily be lost. However, anyone who does find it immediately knows they are in the right spot as they are greeted by the sight of a giant, blue Pegasus painted on the front.

"Cheesecake, for tomorrow we die?" Alex laughs. "Sounds good to me."

"Oooo damn... raspberry white chocolate cheesecake... you trying to turn me on, officer?" Lya jokes. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Damn straight!" Evie grins and replies to Alex. "If I die, I'm going out with a belly full of Dream Fudge Swirl Madness."

She snerks and waggles an eyebrow at Lya, not at all bothered by the playful tone, "Well, you are awful hawt in that business suit..."

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," Lya chuckles as she strikes a pose and blows a kiss to everyone before waving good night.

* * *

(Hitoshi - Eve of Destruction)

A secret service agent approaches the table and says, very quietly, "Sir, there appears to be a problem."

At the same moment, Colonel North raises a hand to his earpiece.

"Wolfpack One, say again," he says. "Fuck. We're under attack. Serious attack. Our people have already lost the outer perimeter. Taking fire, small arms, archers, at least one sniiper. Mr. President, we need to get you to a place of safety."

Holliwell/Fenris waves dismissively. "And that would be where, Colonel? Paul, let's get the sat link set up. Colonel, move the Jotun onto the field. Ryder, stay here. I'll need you in a moment."

North excuses himself. The Secret Service agent, Paul, brings a briefcase to the table, opening it to reveal an encrypted satellite phone with audio and video capability.

Holliwell/Fenris keys in a numeric code. A screen with the Seal of the United States of America blinks _ENCRYPTING_ for a few seconds, then _SECURE_.

"Yes, Mr. President?" answers an Air Force officer.

"Our position is under attack," Holliwell/Fenris says. "Initiate CASCADE."

"Confirming, the code word is CASCADE," repeats the officer. "Confirm identity by biometrics."

Holliwell/Fenris places his palm on a sensor plate. A bright line sweeps back and forth. "Identify. President Justin Arthur Holliwell."

"Identity confirmed, Mr. President, thank you. We need confirmation of the launch order," the officer directs.

"That's you, Ryder," Holliwell/Fenris says. "This is why we registered your palm and voiceprint after you won the election."

"What's CASCADE?" you stall, realizing you're being asked to confirm a launch order.

"A nasty little option that lives in a file cabinet in some triple-secured vault in the sub-sub-basement of the A-Ring," Holliwell/Fenris says. "It ... was brought to my attention shortly after The Break. The enclaves where the Maenads and the so-called gods have set up shop have all been identified by satellite and aerial reconnaissance, and appropriately targeted. We've shared this information with our allies and have a global time-on-target solution. We didn't start this fight, but we're going to end it."

"I know this is a lot to ask, Ryder. Hitoshi. But the future of mankind depends on what you do next."

_The following events are concurrent with Hitoshi being asked to confirm the launch._

There's a crash and a loud _whooomph_ from the lobby, a muted flash telling you the enemy(?) is using flash-bang grenades.

Flicker.

Suddenly, the day outside is brighter. The room is laid out for a formal event. You see Lya, her pistol in hand. A blonde woman sliding from Klepto's grasp. Alex rising from his seat - but in jacket and tie, not battle utilities. Evie in mid-sprint ...

Flicker.

"Waugh!" cries out one agent as an arrow plows into his chest. A second man goes down with an arrow in his thigh. Gunshots ring out, and other men fall. A line of grim-faced men and women enter the dining room from one side, even as Colonel North and others are drawing back from the kitchen entrance.

"Confirm the launch, Ryder!" barks Holliwell/Fenris.

Hitoshi steps back out of the line of fire. "No. I will not nuke this city or launch some sort of mass damage attack on American soil that will kill thousands of innocents."

He pulls the pistol that Alex had given him. "President Holliwell, you are clearly not of sound mind and body if you are ordering a nuclear or biological attack on American soil. As Secretary of Defense, I will be filing that with the government and push for impeachment should we all get out of this alive."

He steps across the battle lines. "No more innocents will die today for your little game Fenris."

"_American_ soil?" Holliwell/Fenris sneers. "CASCADE is global, Hitoshi. Colonel, time to earn your keep. Jotun, to me!"

With that, Fenris flicks something through the air towards Colonel North. It looks like a keyring with a lump of metal. A piece of shrapnel from North's accident, so long ago? But there are no keys upon the short chain, which makes it something considerably more dangerous: a relic.

They've kept Alex under their control by withholding the very thing that unlocks his powers.

"Crystal Palace, this is Packmaster," Fenris says over the link. "Our position is compromised. Carry out your or-"

He cuts himself off by taking his own sidearm and shooting the hell out of the console. The soldiers are likely to carry out the last order received, which was the instruction to launch.

The soldiers who had been alongside North stride towards Holliwell/Fenris. One sees you and snarls, picking up speed as he rushes to protect his master. There's a disturbing gleam in their eyes, their pupils pinpoints. Commandos empowered through Jotunblut, Giant's Blood. They'll have superior strength and speed, as well as an ability to withstand damage that would drop a mortal cold.

"IIE!" shouts a woman.

There is a blur of motion as someone sprints from cover and arrives at your side with a somersault. She is carrying a sheathed katana in one hand, and a shorter length, possibly a wakisashi, in the other.

"Ohayo, Otosan," she smiles, holding the blade out to you. "You will need this, I think."

It is Honsho Masamune, whole and unbroken. Gone is the inky black sageo given to you by Izanami; it has been replaced by a bright red cord, woven with gold.

Hitoshi bows to the woman. "Domo Arigato." He takes Honjo Masamune, feeling different, like something had been locked away, and was now free.

He looks at Feris and the relic flying through the air. Pushing off he dashes across the distance at inhuman speed, snatching the relic out of midair.

"I don't think so."

He spins, Honjo Masamune whipping out in a flashing arc towards the soldier rushing at him, the keen blade neatly decapitating the man.

"Fenris, My friends will stop you from having my world. I will stop you from having this one. You can either fight honorably, or die like a coward, but Ragnarok will not happen this day." 

* * *

You push off the ground, dashing towards the relic that Fenris had tossed.

Colonel North is also reaching up to catch the item, a tragic hunger in his eyes. As Honsho Masamune has brought a flood of power into your being, you can sympathize with this broken version of your friend. You cannot even begin to imagine the pain of knowing one has the blood of a god and being denied those gifts by the hand of an enemy.

"I don't think so," you declare, closing your fist around the chunk of metal.

It is, perhaps, the worst thing you have ever done. Searing pain courses through your nerves, your fingers locking in rictus around the stone. Shit. Of course it was rigged. Why would Loki and Fenris ever trust North to fully take their side?

This version of Alex was going to be disposable, even as Fenris had hoped to have you agree to his insane plan.

You crash to the ground, your muscles still spasming as if trying to cope with an enormous current. You feel as if an enormous amount of energy is flensing you clean, and you realize where you've experienced this kind of power before.

At Loki's fortress, where he'd used magic to anchor another Las Vegas to Asgard, bring its chaos and confusion crashing through the barriers of reality in one tumultuous blow.

You begin to jerk at the mercies of the hellish torrent, a whipsaw motion from fetal to near-spreadeagled ...

"Fool," Fenris sneers. "You, your friends ... you will stop nothing. I had hoped to use your noble instincts to my advantage, but this ... this is beyond all my hopes. Ironic, even. Oh, and Colonel? Your services are no longer required."

Fenris levels a pistol at Alex, but it is one of the Jotun who swiftly closes from behind and impales him with a sword before kicking him free of the blade. Deprived of any of his divine heritage, the light is already fading from his eyes as his body drops to the ground.

"War! Glorious war!" Fenris calls out.

"Not while I live," says the woman who carried Honsho to your side. She takes a second bar-like item from her belt and flicks it open with a _shhhring _of singing metal. Battle fans. She is upon the nearest Jotun in an eyeblink, her fans whirling and dancing in a furious kata, laying the thrall open with numerous bloody cuts.

Several gunshots ring out, but the bullets ping harmlessly off her fans. And while the Jotun are busy guarding Fenris, the attacking Maenads do not stand idle. Arrows fly. One or two might be a mere inconvenience, but the archers aren't stopping ...

You can feel the vortex of power coalescing about you. You begin to see another reality, _your_ reality, superimposed upon this one. There's Evie, in mid-leap, having had the same thought as you. And if one instance of Lya and the Furies is daunting, twice that is, quite frankly, terrifying.

Your fingers are still locked around the damned lodestone, and all you can hear is the howling of the apocalypse ... 


	47. Ragnarok

(Lya, Evie, Alex - The End of the World As We Know It)

The security check for the media is obsessively thorough. News vehicles are parked within a secure perimeter, where their drivers leave them unlocked and accessible for a top-to-bottom search while they are searched and checked against a roster of pre-approved media representatives. Only one crew is allowed inside with cameras, the video feed shared with the local stations and networks.

The staff arrives next. Evie is nearby as the two Einjehar enter and are searched for weapons alongside everyone else. _Maybe they should be checking the two of you for a pulse, instead,_she thinks.

The guests begin arriving at 10:30. There's the Mayor, of course, and several members of the city government, including a cool and collected Soleil Hunter. Loki and Fenris are going all-in, then - no hesitation or regrouping because Selene and Douglas were removed from play.

Alex smiles at you as he passes by. He makes small talk with a handful of guests that he knows - either past clients or from the courthouse, and pauses by the Mayor's table. District Attorney Clemens flinches at Alex's friendly touch on his shoulder, while Hunter plays the game with more aplomb.  
Lya is next to arrive, the Secret Service only giving her cane a cursory examination, to make sure it's not a sword-cane or housing a hidden vial or workings of a pistol.

Russ Keller oozes charisma as he makes his way across the room, attracting the attention of women and men alike. He's the perfect distraction as Lya makes her way to the windows and glances out across the lawn.  
Lya tips her cane forward and murmurs the words that will summon the Furies. Evie realizes that the glance out the window allows Phoebe and Orithia to appear outside, possibly even within the treeline itself, while Toxic and Klepto could materialize anywhere within Lya's sight ...

* * *

Phoebe had her bow strung and an arrow loosely nocked, a deceptively casual stance that gave no indication of how quickly she could set her arrow in flight.

"He'll be in one of two places, according to Evie," Orithia said. She smiled grimly. "Time to go hunting." They'd foregone modern clothes for fighting leathers and bare feet. A few quick cuts with a knife, and their outlines were further muddied by branches and leaves.

"My guess is the easternmost position. The sun will have moved, leaving him in shadow and without any glare on the windows," Phoebe said. She glanced up at the branches. "And he won't be on the ground."

"Mmmm, right. Wouldn't want a guard to stumble on him at the wrong moment," Orithia affirmed. "Going to be hard to sneak up on him."

"He'll be looking towards the clubhouse, not behind him. We'll get a little closer before we climb up."

Phoebe and Orithia are met by a young Jacob Warner. He raises a finger to his lips and points towards the branches one particular tree ...

* * *

"Hello, Chris," Alex said.

His one-time friend sneered. "Didn't think this was your kind of scene, North. Figured you'd be out bucking the system and fighting a grand crusade for justice." Another ADA snorted disdainfully. Something was off about both men. Soleil Hunter had been busy.

"Don't forget tilting at windmills and fighting the Fenris Wolf," Alex prodded. Clemens' eyes remained somewhat blank; he'd been reduced to a puppet, reciting lines that had been spoon-fed to him.

"Oh, did Chris tell you? We're engaged," Soleil beamed. To Alex, Soleil's smile simply looked predatory.

"Well, then. Congratulations. I'm sure you'll be happy together."

"Yes. Happy," Clemens mumured.  
_  
That's just creepy,_ Alex thought. _Maybe if we survive the day, we can do something for you, Chris. Undo whatever mind games this she-wolf has put you through._

Evie concentrates upon her job, watching people as they mill about, intermingling and chatting. While she knows, for certain, of the sniper and einjehar, there's still plenty of room for unexpected surprises.

She tries her best to keep her expression relaxed, though it is hard to not seem as high-strung as she is. Knowing what is coming is, at once, calming and an absolute nightmare. She knows what is going to happen and what must be done, but...how will it all go down? With figures like Loki and Fenris involved and worlds coming together? Add onto that that Saul is here, as well. Though she's certain that all of Vegas will feel the effects of today, it will be more deadly here. The knot in her stomach tightens a notch.

For right now, though, Evie just watches. She knows that it won't be until the speech that she'll mostly likely need to move.

You can hear the thunder of the VH-3D Sea King helicopter, dubbed Marine One, as it came in for a landing on the lawn outside.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise," the emcee said quietly. A moment later, as the steps came down and President Jacob Warner disembarked, he added, "The President of the United States." Ruffles and flourishes filtered over the speakers, followed by _Hail to the Chief_ as Warner entered the club. He waved and smiled, and did the 'I know you' point that made politicians seem connected to the audience.

"Mr. President," smiled Justin Holliwell. "Welcome to Las Vegas."

"Thank you, Justin," Warner said. You tense as he pauses at the Mayor's table to exchange niceties, but the angle is wrong for Krieger to take a shot. Warner takes his seat without incident, with Holliwell beside him. But if Fenris is loose in the reality Hitoshi is in, how can he be here? Of course, if the man's appearance is an illusion, he could be anyone. Lunch begins with a small salad, then proceeds with what the Country Club does particularly well. Menu options were presented at the time of ticket purchase. It was explained that LVPD officers working the event would be fed after the President had departed for Nellis AFB.

(Evie)

There's a moment where the room seems to _flicker. _For a brief instant, you see a room where flames lick at the curtains, tables are upended, and several Secret Service agents are downed with arrows sticking out of their chests. Then all is calm. Nothing here has changed.

Flicker.

"It's over, you bastard," Lya says to Alex. But it's a Lya you barely recognize, a jagged scar scoring one cheek, her face covered with grime and ... blood. The fire in her eyes is no longer a dance-on-the-edge sparkle, but a dangerous kind of madness ...

Flicker.

Lya and Russ are to your left. Nothing is amiss.

Flicker.

A blade tumbles end over end through the air. Honsho Masamune.

Flicker.

Alex is sitting at a table, politely applauding the usual introductions and pleasantries. Holliwell is sitting beside the President.

Flicker.

As chaotic as the images are, you're able to sort between the two worlds and keep your focus ...

_It's happening. Oh, shit. I wish I could ask the others if they can see this._ Evie glances at her friends, but there is nothing to indicate that they are seeing any of this. Of course, they may see it and simply be, like her, sorting it out on their own, still playing their roles here just as she is.

Evie starts making her way closer to the President, edging along the outskirts of the room. She wants to stay as inconspicuous as possible. She's nothing more than security, taking a new position...

She glances at Lya and Alex, hoping to catch their eyes...

Lya glances quickly back at the hallway leading to the restrooms and kitchen area and smiles to herself as she sees the telltale flash of red and blonde hair before they slip into the women's restroom to wait for the signal.

"She told us to do what?" asks Toxic.

"Just shut up and stuff the TP in your ears already!"

She catches the glance of a worried Evie out of the corner of her eye and smiles as she gestures with both hands over her ears before running her hands through her hair as if fixing her hairdo. _We've got this Evie... nobody's dying on my watch, just a good night's sleep... except maybe a few rabid dogs that need to be put down._

Grabbing a martini off of one of the servers drink trays, she puts her best fake smile on and walks over to Soleil Hunter's table as she begins to sing a lilting lullaby...

The merest hint of Cradlesong begins stealing into the minds of the audience. Eyelids flutter, people begin to yawn, and more than a few people do face-plants in their salad. Soleil Hunter seems unfazed, but is unable to prevent your power from sending the mortals, including the District Attorney, into a deep sleep. Several officers and agents enter the room and are quickly caught up in the lullaby.

"Rock-a-bye Baby isn't going to work on me, Lya," she sneers. "Not that it will matter after I rip your vocal cords out."

(Evie)

You can feel the power in Lya's voice, but it leaves you untouched. Perhaps it's the gifts of your own bloodline, or perhaps it's because you're allied, but the lullaby isn't anything more than a pleasant tune. Of course, with the staccato flashes of other realities, sleep is the farthest thing from your mind.

Everyone seems to be affected, from the President on down - even Justin Holliwell, though you remain suspicious. Even officers who you know aren't given to kipping off are leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Alerted to something odd taking place, other agents and officers enter from the lobby, including Saul. But while everyone else begins to nod and fade, Saul rests his hand on his pistol. His eyes are sweeping the room, meeting yours. He gives you a familiar head bob as if to ask, 'What the hell?'

Alex and Arky are unaffected, as is Soleil Hunter, who rises from her seat and begins stalking - there's really no other word for it - towards Lya ...

* * *

Phoebe is completely at ease among the spreading branches. She is able to sight in on Krieger, who is nestled against the bole of another tree, watching the scene through his rifle scope.

"Wofur?" he mutters, clearly in response to something that's happening inside, but he neither breaks cover or aim ...

Phoebe slowly and quietly notches an arrow as she takes aim between the shoulder blades of the sniper and gives a shrill whistle. _Just raise your head and we'll see how well you take an arrow in the back of it..._

It speaks to Krieger's discipline that his only reaction is a slight tensing between his shoulder blades. The bark of his rifle and the song of Phoebe's bow are simultaneous, her arrow sinking deep into the man's neck. He goes limp, knocking his rifle from the tree.

Phoebe nocks a second arrow and shoots Krieger again, straight through the heart. A third arrow goes through his left knee.

"I think he's dead, Phoebs," Orithia says.

"He was summoned from Valhalla. I intend to send him back," she says.

* * *

Evie meets Saul's eyes, her own expression mirroring his, though for a slightly different (though related) reason. _What the...? Why aren't you sleeping, Saul?_

Her gaze flicks back to Holliwell, who seems to be out along with everyone else. He could just be faking it, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. After all, Fenris probably doesn't know that they know he's replaced the senator. But...could they have pulled a switcharoo and replaced Saul, someone they certainly wouldn't expect?

_If they did that, it would have to be a rush job,_ Evie quickly thinks. She was with Saul just this morning. And, she's been here ever since this whole affair started. They would have little opportunity and no real reason to switch out but...still...it's weird. No mortal should be able to resist Lya's magic.

Though she isn't completely ruling out the idea that _her_ Saul is tied up in a closet somewhere, Evie still leans toward the idea that Fenris is playing possum.

Evie gives Saul a half-shrug, _Hell if I know._ She gestures for him to stay put. If that is the real Saul, trying to get him to leave would be fruitless, anyway. This is clearly a suspicious situation and he's an excellent officer. He won't walk away from this anymore than he would any other of his duties. All Evie can hope for is that the enemy will focus on the Scions and leave him be.

She continues to move towards the president, more swiftly now that everyone is blissfully napping, setting herself up to shield him from whatever attacks might come.

"Good thing I didn't come alone then," Lya replies loudly as she grips her cane tight. "We just had to finish putting your bitch sister in a kennel first."

"You'll pay!" Selene snarls as she moves towards Lya.

_That's it, focus on me...don't pay attention to Klepto coming up behind you..._

"My only regret is that she won't be here to see it," Soleil hissed. She tenses as if preparing to leap at you.

"Bad dog. Heel," says Klepto, her arms snaking around Soleil's throat.

Soleil rakes her fingers down the outside of Klepto's arm, leaving claw marks that quickly well with blood. Klepto doesn't relent.

"I will bear the scars with honor," she says. "Didn't anyone tell you Greek heroes kill mythic beasts for practice?"

"I'll add your skull to my collection," Soleil sneers. She drives an elbow into Klepto's stomach and breaks free, springing at Lya ...

"Lya!" shouts Toxic, tossing her pistol to her in a practiced move.

The pistol barks once. The bullet tears through Soleil's right eye, an ironic note in the Norse saga.

"Heal that," Lya says, coldly. She lowers her hand, and the pistol barks twice more, a double-tap to Soleil's chest. "And that."

There's another sharp report as a bullet lances through one of the windows.

"Nooooooooo!" Evie shouts, starting towards the dozing President and knowing she'll never make it in time.

Flicker.

Time distorts. You're moving in the space between heartbeats.

"Evieeeeeee!" Saul is calling out, his service pistol coming up in anticipation of another threat.

Evie can see the wake of the bullet's passing as if this were an action movie. Even though she's still yards away, she reaches out as if to pluck the bullet from mid-air. And before it can strike the sleeping man, there's a flare of light, an image that looks remarkably like Evie's badge. The bullet is deflected and plows into the wall behind Warner.

Time snaps back to normal.

"... eeeeee!" Saul finishes. "What the?"

_Thwack!_

"Stay down," Klepto says, her wrist snapping out and back as an ASP baton coshes Soleil on the head.

Alex feels a tug on his sleeve. It's the ghost of young Justin Holliwell, and he's pointing towards the kitchen.

"Company!" he shouts, moving towards the two Einjehar ...

"Got your back, Alex!" barks Toxic as she draws her sword and moves to his side.

"Evie? Is the President OK?" Lya yells out to her friend as she takes aim at the head of one of the Einjehar.

Evie nearly trips as everything snaps back into place for her. She gasps softly, realizing that she must've tapped some power that she didn't know she had. She blinks and the room flickers annoyingly, jumping between realities, again.

Gathering herself, she continues to run towards Warner, to stand as the back line of defense. And, to possibly deal with Holliwell. At this point, she's not exactly sure what to expect from him...though jumping up and trying to rip her face off seems like a possibility.

Over her shoulder, she calls out to Saul, "I'll explain everything later! Promise!"

Her first instinct is to tell him to call for backup, but that would be pointless. They'd all just fall asleep and wind up being big, lumpy targets who could inadvertently be hurt in all the commotion. As she takes up a position by the president, she points to her allies in turn, "Alex, Lya, Arky, the Amazons...ours!"

"He's okay!" Evie calls to Lya.

"Einjehar! Face me!" Alex belts out in a direct challenge.

It is no surprise that both of them turn to face him. However, the MP5 submachineguns that both men point in Alex's direction are. They spit bullets that tear into Alex's body, staggering him and dropping him to his knees.

"North!" yells Saul, new to the game of gods and powers.

Alex slips Hel's gift over his face before rising as an ominous spectre.

"Jesus!" Saul exclaims. "What the hell is that?!"

"I am Death," Alex proclaims. "And now I come for your souls." He resumes walking towards the Einjehar, who empty their weapons, then toss them at the looming phantasm. They raise their fists, prepared to fight, but Alex simply grips each one by the throat and lifts.

"Gkkkkkk!" one squawks, pawing ineffectively at Alex's arm.

"Mercy," gasps the other.

"Have you killed anyone during your time here on Midgard?" Alex asks.

"N-n-nein," stammers one. The other shakes his head.

"Then I release you from the summons that binds you here," Alex says. "Your fate is in the hands of the All-Father."

"Danke," breathes one man. The other man gives a Nazi salute. Despite the gesture's historical meaning, the respect is clear. Both of the men vanish from Alex's grasp.

"Glad you're on our side," Lya smiles. "But could you take that mask off? You're creeping me out."

"I didn't know I could do that," Alex said. "The power was just _there_ all of a sudden."

"I know what you mean," Evie says. Quietly, she points at Holliwell and shakes her head. The meaning is clear. "I'm protecting the President."

"Ah, but who's protecting you, Evie?" says Senator Holliwell - if it was ever him to begin with. He gives a familiar smile - that of Jason Lyman.

There's a meaty, cutting sound as he turns towards Evie.

"Uhhh," she gasps. There's a good six inches of gleaming steel sticking out of her belly, with Holliwell/Loki twisting the handle of his dagger.

"You see, once you're out of the way, I can dispatch the President," Loki says. "Fenris kicks off a global war against the gods, and Ragnarok begins." He pulls the dagger out and flicks it clean of Evie's blood.

Determination is etched on Evie's face as she stands her ground, but she is forced to brace herself against the table.

"Son of a bitch!" Saul snarls as he fires a perfect double-tap at Holliwell. The bullets never reach him, seemingly consumed by fire in mid-air.

"I've been called worse," Holliwell/Loki smiles.

Saul continues to fire, emptying his magazine, with the same results. He holsters his weapon and draws his side-handle baton.

Toxic bars his way. "Don't. He's a god."

"He's not a god to me," Saul spits.

"The child wants to play? Let him," Loki leers. "He'll burn along with the rest of your miserable world, and all who dare interfere with the gods! This day was written in stone before any of you were born!"

There's a twin clap of thunder.

"It's a lousy ending. Gonna write a new one," Evie says. She pulls the trigger a third time, sending the bullet up through Holliwell/Loki's torso. A froth of blood appears on Loki's lips.

"That's not how it's supposed to happen ..." he says. "I am Loki!"

"And I'm my father's daughter," Evie smiles. "Did you forget?"

Loki sinks to his knees, fumbles at the table but only succeeds in pushing it further away. He falls to the floor.

"Fenris ..." he breathes before becoming still.

"Evie!" Saul calls out. This time, Toxic doesn't hold him back. He gathers her into his arms, murmuring Evie's name. "Don't you leave me, Cartwright!" he says.

"Saul ..."

There's a flare of light, prompting Klepto to ask, "Oh, what the fuck is it now?"

It's Valeria. Radiant as an angel, clad in silver scale armor and carrying a gleaming sword.

"No," says Alex. "Valeria, no!"

Valeria smiles at Evie, then looks back at Alex. "It's not her time. My business here is with you."

Alex glances down at himself to make sure his wounds aren't reappearing. "But I'm not dead."

"You have set foot upon a different path," she says. "We will not meet again, warrior." She vanishes.

"You must forsake Valhalla," Alex breathes. "Son of a bitch." He slams his fist down upon a table, and it collapses to the floor.

"Evie!" Lya yells as she holsters her gun and falls to her knees beside Saul.

"Did she ever tell you I went through a crash course in healing taught by an Asian goddess?" She asks Saul with a smile as she rolls up her sleeves and hovers her open hands over the wound.

"Never... came up..." Evie gurgles with a weak laugh.

"Evie, save your strength!" Saul admonishes in concern. "I don't care who taught you if you can save her."

The ring gives off a comfortable warmth that radiates through Lya's hands and up her arms as the knowledge comes to her. The knife fortunately missed Evie's lung, but she's got a nasty stomach wound that's bleeding internally thanks to that bastard twisting the dagger.

"I wouldn't want to miss retelling this story to your grand kids," she replies as the warmth flows down through her hands into the wound. "I got you, Evie... I got you."

Toxic moves with sword in hand to guard Lya's back as Klepto kicks Loki in the side to make sure he's not moving.

"I'll be okay," Evie squeezes Saul's hand, holding it to her chest as she reassures him. "I'm already feeling better."

She can feel the healing warmth spread through her abdomen, pain subsiding as flesh knits and rearranged organs align themselves. Evie smiles gratefully at Lya, so very thankful that her friend is there. Had she not...well...this would've turned out much differently. "Thank you," she sighs in relief.

Evie sits up and leans forward out of Saul's grasp just long enough to give Lya a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then, she turns and hugs Saul, kissing him softly on the lips. She chuckles, "What is it with you and me getting stabbed?"

"I don't know, but it needs to stop!" he holds her tightly, as though he intends to never let her go.

After a moment, she taps his shoulder and gently extracts herself from Saul's embrace. Looking at Loki, she says, "I doubt that killed him. He's a god. It probably just damaged him enough that he had to return to Asgard."

Looking between all of her friends, she asks, "Is everyone okay?" Her gaze lingers for a moment on Alex, noting his distressed expression and the crumpled table. She had been too distracted by her own condition to have truly registered Val's arrival and disappearance.

"Peachy keen," Lya laughs in relief as she sits back on her knees and pulls out a flask from her inside jacket pocket to take a drink. "Klepto? I don't think these guys are moving... you want to see how Phoebe and Orithia are doing?"

Klepto wrinkles her nose at the still bodies of Loki and Soleil Hunter before nodding and moving to the window to look towards the woods. She smiles to herself as she sees Orithia waving from the trees. "Looks like Phoebe got her man."

"She always does," Toxic agrees as she sheathes her sword and claps Klepto on the shoulder.

"Awesome," Lya replies as she dusts herself off and walks over to Alex to offer him a drink. "You going to be OK? I'm sure you'll still be able to see each other when she's off duty or something."

Alex's shoulders sag for a brief instant. "I don't know, it sounded official. And final," he says. "I guess I stepped on the All-Father's toes by standing in judgment over two warriors who had already been welcomed into Valhalla. Or because he found out what we did for Mimir."

There's a thunderclap. A real one, this time. Outside, the sky darkens in a manner that can only be described as wrong. Lya rubs at her arms as if staving off the 'hairs standing up' feeling.

"You, too?" Evie asks.

Saul draws his pistol and slaps in a fresh magazine. "What's next? Iron Man fighting the Hulk?"

"Don't joke about it," Alex says, his moment of vulnerability set aside. "I've got ..."

"... a bad feeling ..." Lya continues.

"... about this," Evie and Saul both say. "We saw the movie."

"Hitoshi?" Alex asks. "Loki said his job was to kill President Warner while Fenris kicked off a global war against the gods. It's happening."

"But that's in another reality!" Toxic protests.

* * *

Flicker.

An alternate version of the dining room is superimposed over things. Tables are askew, and a line of grim-faced men and women, armed with guns, swords, and bows are advancing into the room. Lya, dressed in dark leathers, has a dangerous gleam in her eyes. She is flanked by four women in armor, though the only one you recognize is Toxic. Evie, too, is there, along with several men and women wearing battered and salvaged LVPD gear.

Across from them stand a greying Justin Holliwell, Hitoshi Ryder, and a man in military uniform. He looks up, and you see that it is Alex North, but this Alex is missing part of his right arm.

"No. I will not nuke this city or launch some sort of mass damage attack on american soil that will kill thousands of innocents," Hitoshi says.

"American soil?" Holliwell/Fenris sneers. "CASCADE is global, Hitoshi. Colonel, time to earn your keep. Jotun, to me!"  
With that, Fenris flicks something through the air towards his Alex North. A piece of metal, looking like a keyring. But there are no keys upon the short chain, which makes it something considerably more dangerous: a relic ...

Evie has absolutely no idea if she can interact with this reality or whether she and her companions are relegated to on-lookers in this battle. She mutters, "Won't know unless I try..."

She lunges across the room, trying to catch Alex's relic. If Fenris is giving it to him, then it must mean that he's confident that Col. North will do his bidding. She can't trust that this man still holds the same, good heart as her friend...

(Evie)

"I don't think so," you hear Hitoshi say as he, too, leaps for the relic sailing through the air. His fingers close around it ...

... and a burst of cerulean energy tosses you aside. You crash into tables, whether from one reality or the other, you cannot tell. You see Hitoshi straining against power and pain, his fingers still locked around the relic.

A trap.

Whether he was a good man or not, neither Fenris nor Loki would be so foolish as to place complete trust in Alex North, even one who had been broken to their will.

"Fool," Fenris sneers at Hitoshi. "You, your friends ... you will stop nothing. I had hoped to use your noble instincts to my advantage, but this ... this is beyond all my hopes. Ironic, even. Oh, and Colonel? Your services are no longer required."

Fenris levels a pistol at Alex, but it is one of the Jotun who swiftly closes from behind and impales him with a sword before kicking him free of the blade. Deprived of any of his divine heritage, the light is already fading from his eyes as his body drops to the ground.

"War! Glorious war!" Fenris calls out.

There's a metallic _tzing!_ as an Asian woman, clad in a waitress' uniform, deploys two battle fans and takes on the soldiers forming a loose cordon around Fenris. She dances and whirls in a fluid dance, deflecting shots one moment, drawing blood with the fans' edges the next.

And you see yourself. Jeans, work shirt, leather jacket ... but the men and women around you are clad in salvaged LVPD gear. Tactical vests, riot shields, helmets, Sam Browne belts. When the world went to hell, you and your colleagues stepped forward to protect it.

(Lya, Alex)

This world, and the other begin to resolve. No longer intangible, you're in both places at once, a dining room filled with slumbering guests, and one with tables and chairs tossed about, a battleground where Jotunblut thralls stand in defense of Fenris.

But you are not alone. There's an Asian woman wielding twin battle fans, already fully engaged with the Jotun. And a line of warriors, men and women, all carrying weapons of some form, advancing from the lobby. At their head is Lya's twin, a dancing-on-the-razor's-edge gleam in her eye. She is surrounded by four women who should be the Furies, but you only recognize Toxic.

"Anchor," Alex swears. "They're using him to bridge the worlds."

"Fuck me," Evie mutters as she looks up from the tangle of chairs and tables. She knows that sight. She's seen it before, back at Castle World. And, it had all been a trap, one that her stupid ass had fallen for.

She lurches to her feet and whistles, getting the attention of...herself. _Man, this is weird._

Chief Evie glances to the side, giving her a cursory once over. Then, she stops and does a double-take. "What the hell?"

Detective Evie points to Hitoshi, gripped in the magical trap. "It's an anchor holding our worlds together! We have to cut the line! Don't hurt Hitoshi if you can help it. He's ours, from our world!"

_Oh, gawds. I hope she's a Scion, too, so this will all make sense. I don't have time to explain everything..._

Back in Castle World, the anchor had been destroyed when Sarcophagus Alex had interrupted it with a shield. Of course, it had destroyed him, too. She'd rather not wind up vaporized, not after Lya was so kind as to mend her. And not after Saul had to endure watching her be impaled.

But, you do what you have to do. Greater good and all that...

If Alex and Lya can handle Fenris, perhaps she can somehow break the anchor and free Hitoshi.

"Glorious?" Lya mutters angrily as she holsters her gun and grabs her staff, the wood creaking under the strain of her death grip around it.

"Glorious?" she yells out as the vines on the staff glow and she begins to weave her way through the throngs of Jotunblut like she was on the dance floor.

"War isn't glorious... it's a _seething_ ... _writhing_ ... _chaotic_ **shitstorm!**Loki? DEAD! Soleil? DEAD! Selene? Imprisoned! Let me show you just how _chaotic_ war can be!"

The other Lya slowly smiles and nods.

The vines on the staff glow brighter and begin to move and snake up her arm as she clenches it tight. She sneers in disgust at the Jotunblut holding the sword still bloody from impaling the other Alex. _You._

Klepto's eyes widen in sudden remembrance of being back in the castle the last time Lya lost her cool. "Oh shit..." she whispers as she grabs Toxic's arm to warn her. "It's happening again!"

Toxic nods. "I'll warn Saul."

The Jotunblut thrall meets Lya's direct and challenging stare, thinking her to be his next target. Instead, he stumbles a half step. He moves to raise his sword and its point wavers as if he were having trouble fixing on his victim. And then his jaw falls slack, his mouth opening in a wordless cry of torment.

Colonel North looks at the commando, someone he'd trained, someone he'd been assured was now superior to mere mortals, and instead sees eyes that have gone blank and unseeing, pupils dilated ...he begins to tremble. His hands fly to grip his temples as the world spins out of control in his mind.

The chaos spreads like lightning, quickly consuming the entire squad of blood-bound soldiers. The young Asian woman who had been dancing through their ranks raises one battle fan to shield her eyes and changes her tactical focus. Instead of fighting the Jotun, she is clearly protecting HItoshi's prone figure.

"Indiana!" someone on Chief Cartwright's side yells. "Look out!" The men and women on the opposing line raise their off arms and shield their eyes without giving ground. The warning cry hearkens to the climactic scene in _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. They've apparently seen this party trick before and want no part of it.

Holliwell/Fenris smiles and locks eyes with Lya.

"Glorious," he repeats. His entire frame begins trembling, but not with the confused palsy crippling his men. It's worse than that. "I am the Fenris Wolf! I cannot be bound by such petty enchantments!" he roars. And he begins to change. The features of Justin Holliwell melt, his jaw elongating in a lupine slide; dark, inky fur appearing beneath clothing that tears as his limbs lengthen and he grows in height and breadth. No mere werewolf, but a terrifying and primal creature that exudes its own chaotic aura.

"Fenris?" the other Lya says. "Dionysus save us."

"Fine," snarls Parthenope. "I've got an arrow for him, as well." The Maenad draws her bow, nocking a pair of arrows and sighting on Colonel North's head.

"Look at me, you bastard," she says, even though North turns unseeing eyes towards the sound of her voice, though he is beyond comprehending her words.

"This is for Phoebe." Her arrows fly and pierce Colonel North's eyes. She pivots and has another arrow nocked, set to fly at Fenris.

"Take your best shot," Fenris slavers. "The warriors of Asgard tried it all. Arrows. Swords. Fire. Poison. Magic. I am the World's Ending!"

There's an answering volley of fire, arrows and bullets alike, as Bach and Cartwright's people open fire. Fenris doesn't even flinch. Ichor mats his fur, but wounds close as quickly as they are inflicted ...

"Huh?" Evie blinks in surprise. However, as soon as _Indiana_ is mentioned and she sees the LVPD folks cover their eyes, she knows what is happening. She remembers Castle World and Lya's warning..._Don't look._

Evie has no idea if anything has changed in herself, since then. Can she withstand this, the way she did Lya's lullaby? Don't know and not going to risk it. However, she does chance a quick look to Saul and sees him already shielding his eyes, Toxic standing at his side. She breathes a small sigh of relief, at that. Dropping her eyes to the ground, she thinks furiously. How can she help Hitoshi? She certainly can't fight anything, right now, without risking madness. But...maybe..._maybe_...

Inwardly, she laughs at herself. _This is either going to be brilliant or the stupidest thing I have ever done..._

Without lifting her eyes beyond a few feet ahead of her on the floor, she sprints towards the kitchen. _Butter, oil, lard...just need something slick...And something small, long and round. Crab pick? Ice pick? Pen? F_or what she is going to do, she'll need a small tool to slip into Hitoshi's grasp and pry/push at the relic to help wiggle it out. The last thing she wants to do is use her own hand for that. It would, presumably, just trigger the trap, again.

"You and Odin are both cowards and fools!" Lya yells out in frustration as the battle continues to rage and Fenris grows. "Ragnarok is a farce made up by an old man too scared to take control of his own life, and like the well trained pup you've heeled at his feet and continue to perpetuate his lies! Look at you!" She gestures at him in disgust. "You aren't even _capable o_f being a **man** without Loki telling you what to do! You're just a **dog** _begging _for a master. You couldn't be a man on your own if you _tried."_

"Being a man?" Fenris laughs. "What does that mean? I have never been a man. Justin Holliwell was a mask, like all the others I have worn over the years. And Loki? That puling windbag couldn't direct a fart out of his own ass. Decades wasted in grandiose schemes, for what? This is how it's supposed to work!"

He waves a hand (paw?) and several of Cartwright's people fall, torn apart from a distance by invisible claws. "Nor are these toy soldiers my only allies," he says. A cloud of dark smoke uncoils from the ground around Fenris, resolving into black-clad and fully-masked warriors. At their head is a man who must be Hitoshi's twin from this reality. The cloud does not disperse, and you have the impression that you are grossly, horribly outnumbered ...

(Evie)

You scramble about the kitchen, your choice being an artisan steak butter smelling like garlic and cilantro, or good old extra-virgin olive oil. A handheld stone for sharpening knives meets your criteria for something to push the item with. You run back outside.

"Please, please, please, please," you murmur as you pour oil over Hitoshi's hand. You slide the sharpening stone in by his pinky ...  
... and it slides right through the object and out the other side.

Damn.

"Ohhh, nice idea. But I think he's in the other reality," Alex says. "So we either have to wait for them to come together, or we need to find someone who is where he is."

"Simple enough!" Evie mutters, not deterred. If there is one thing that can be said about Heimdall's daughter, it's that she's stubborn.

"Hey! Chief!" Evie lets out another sharp whistle, to get Cartwright's attention. "Got an idea, but need someone from your reality to do it. I can't touch this damn thing."

"This is how it's supposed to work? Who told you _that_ ... _Odin?"_ Lya sneers. "You've never been human because you don't have the _balls_ for it," she spits.

"Did it hurt when Tyr clipped them off? Look at you trying to be all scary with your army... you can't even carry out your plans by yourself! If it weren't for Hitoshi catching the damn anchor your plans would've already been over!"

"Nor am I truly a wolf," Fenris smiles, all fangs and slaver. "That is only how mortal men can begin to comprehend what I am. I am the darkness beyond the edge of the campfire. The predator that stalks them through shadow, across mountains, plains, and forests. The fear that freezes their hearts, the hunger that consumes their children as well as their minds.I am at the heart of every political and religious movement. Politicians, kings, and clergymen all bow to me."

"I am the chaos you thrive on," he continues. "Not all of my servants are warriors. Some are activists and protesters who comfort themselves with lies as to the purity of their motives. I was here at the beginning of time, and I will be here at its end."

"And yet you were still imprisoned by the Gods," Lya laughs in disdain. "Look at you trying sooo hard to prove that you're some scary embodiment of chaos... but you're _still_ nothing without Man! Who will fear you? Who will hear your whispers and machinations? Who will worship you? NO ONE! Because _you,_ in your so called wisdom, decided to kill off everyone who gave your existence meaning!"

She rolls her eyes and stomps her staff into the ground. "So tell me... were you just too _STUPID_ to think about the consequences, or were you just too cowardly to think for yourself and do something _other_ that what Odin said was fated to happen?"

"I live my life the way I choose and told the gods where they can stick their destiny... which is something that I will _always_ have over you."

"So tell me... just who is the master, and who is the servant of Chaos?"

(Evie)

You whistle for your twin.

"Busy!" she says, shooting a ninja-like creature between the eyes. "Saul! Help her. Help me. Whatever!"

"On it!" come two shouts in the affirmative. And you are met by Saul Anderson and his twin, the latter being somewhat more battle-worn, but still with that devil-may-care sparkle in his eyes.

"Oh, wow," he says, seeing his twin. "Damn. Okay. What do you need, Chief? Drinks and gab later."

"I need _you_, because he's in your world, to push the object in his hand free," you explain. "But don't touch it. It's evil."

Officer Anderson laughs. "Got it, Evie. Go. Get clear, just in case."

Whatever power you used to protect President Warner, you now focus on Saul's twin. You're not entirely sure it will work against whatever power or artifice is tearing the universe - both universes - apart, but you can't ask Saul's double to risk his life and _not_ work to protect him.

"All right, you little dickens," he mutters. "Let's see if we c- whoa!" He jerks his hand away from the sharpener. "Remember that time I tried replacing the light switch without cutting the power?" he says. "Um, it's like that."

You smile, although you've got no idea what he's talking about, you can see yourself and the Saul you know having a home repair misadventure along those lines.

"Time on target, five minutes," a speaker squawks. Fenris bats a briefcase aside with a snarl. "I have no master. I _am_ Chaos."

Around you, the fight is not going well. Cartwright's people, unprepared for melee combat, are taking casualties. Even the Maenads seem to be pressed, and the shadow warriors also have the edge of superior numbers. You see Alex gesturing towards the briefcase Fenris had knocked aside. He scrambles up over a table and leaps towards the nemesis of his pantheon.

"Get the briefcase! The launch is coordinated!" he shouts. _"We can still stop it!"_

Fenris looms over Alex and takes a swipe at him, overreaching the smaller (?) man. It's weird to think of Alex as 'small,' but the comparison is true, if only one of relative values. For every strike Fenris lands, despite drawing blood, Alex lands three or four solid punches. You remember him shattering a table a moment ago, and realize the power those punches must pack.

"Death to the Son of Tyr," Fenris hisses.

(Alex)

"It was never Loki," Alex breathes. "It was you."

"As it must be. We are fated to be enemies," Fenris growls. "Nothing personal, Counselor." Fenris finally manages to cap Alex's face with one hand (paw?), drawing blood as he begins a slow raking of Alex's face ...

"Fuck your fate bullshit!" Lya yells as she quickly draws her gun and shoots Fenris repeatedly through the arm. "Klepto! Toxic! Get the radio so we can stop this!"

"Well, shit," Evie mutters. Her lips press together in a grim line as she looks at Hitoshi, curled and taut with pain. She sighs and gives Anderson a smile, "Thanks for trying. Get back out there and watch Cartwright's back. And, be careful!"

She looks at Saul, speaking to him as she thinks aloud, "I don't know what else to try. The last time we did this, there was a line. We were able to interrupt the line and break the connection...but this isn't doing that. I can't touch it. They can't touch it. Knocking Hitoshi out won't change anything. Alex was unconscious the entire time he was trapped..."

Evie growls and stands, pacing a small, desperate circle around her friend. Saul simply watches, knowing that there's not really much he can do for her when she gets like this. The only thing to be done is to let her wind down on her own.

_I could cut his hand off. That would probably do it,_ she thinks. The very idea makes her stomach churn. She couldn't do that to him! Hitoshi is her friend and he's suffered enough but...

She glances up at the darkened sky. There, across the field, Alex valiantly battles Fenris, blood staining his shirt where claws have raked his flesh. Lya and the Furies are mowing their way towards the radio, intent on stopping the launch. LVPD and Bach's people fight furiously, blood and dead bodies are scattered everywhere.

_This is bigger than us. If Lya can't stop the countdown...something has to be done. I'll do it, then._ Evie's heart aches at the very thought.

With a heavy sigh, she turns back to Saul. She gives him a brave smile and says, "I can't think of anything else. Let's go out there and guard Lya. She needs to be able to think and work uninterrupted."

Pulling out her gun, she starts shooting her way across the field.

(Lya)

The double-tap of shots plow into Fenris' arm, with pretty much the same effect as everything else thrown his way. He continues dragging his talons down Alex's face, more to inflict pain than anything else.

"Skoll told me you healed like we do," he says. Alex appears to flail helplessly, a wordless cry spilling from his lips. "Beg, Son of Tyr, and I may spare you."

"Fuck, who writes your lines?" Alex says. His left hand snaps up suddenly and seizes Fenris' wrist. The Wolf tries to jerk away, but finds his efforts to be futile. Not only can he not break away, but Alex holds the Wolf's arm in place. "Fate, is it? Then you'll love what comes next. I drank from Mimir's Well."

You've had the gift of prophecy long enough to know the power in those words. Alex has acknowledged the prophecy, bringing its force to his own efforts. Imbued with the vision from the well, he is, in this moment and place, invincible.

(Evie)

Hitoshi's double - everything Hitoshi is not - strides towards you, a black tanto in one hand.

"Look out!" Anderson shouts, tackling you to carry you the descending blade.

"What? No 'you will face justice' Officer An-der-son?" Ryder laughs mockingly.

"Gods, are you _all_ a bunch of wordy, melodramatic bastards?" Parthenope huffs.

Ryder deflects the arrow, but is immediately forced on the defensive as the young Asian woman whirls into another kata with her battle fans.

"I'm sorry, Papa. You have allied yourself with the wrong side," she says.

There is clear surprise on Ryder's face. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Ask the Lady of Shadows," she says without relenting.

* * *

(Hitoshi)

The words come with difficultly, not only because of the energies spasming through your body, but because ... well, because they're part of a chapter begun long ago, and never finished.

"Father ... p-p-please," you breathe. "Help me!"

"Foolish brat," Izanami's voice hisses in your ear. So close. "Loki was a fool to think you would be so easily plied. But I have torments to strip away the last vestiges of honor. I shall craft you into a servant to remind mortals why they should fear and obey me."

"You cannot touch him, Izanami," another voice declares. Hachiman. "Wayward or not, this is my son."

"Aiya! Take him!" Izanami says. "You have your son, and I have mine."

"There, too, you are in error," Hachiman says.

"... the Lady of Shadows," the young woman says.

"Aiee! You! You are mine! You are ..." Izanami protests, realizing what is transpiring.

"A pest? An afterthought of your machinations, 'Aunt Izzy'? When was I anything but a tool for your ambitions?" Asami says. "I was shown another path, and I choose to walk it."

"Then you choose to die," Izanami hisses.

"Not today," the young woman says. Her fan dances back in a slicing motion, layering another cut over several others inflicted against Ryder. "And certainly not by his hand. When I was the bait, even though he suspected it was artifice, Hitoshi Ryder looked upon me with true joy in his eyes and heart. He would give anything to save Akane, and me. I can do no less."

"Asami," you manage to say weakly.

"You are nothing, girl. A phantom, a showpiece," Ryder hisses. He snatches a tablecloth and winds it about his arm to foil the slicing, dancing fans.

"Is that your excuse for abusing Akane and I?" Asami retorts. "Hitoshi Ryder looked upon us and saw something he cherished above all else. You have never looked at me with anything but contempt."

"Why should I? You are a bag of maggots and dirt, a conjured toy."

"The Lord of Nets showed me otherwise," Asami says. "I am samurai."

"A fantasy shared by Hitoshi Ryder," the man says mockingly. "One I have never shared or deluded myself with. I know who I am, and what I want. I am free of ridiculous notions like honor and bushido, with power to do what I want!"

He raised his arms like an itinerant preacher calling his flock to know Jesus, then drew them inward as if seizing something out of the air, and everything went black.

* * *

"Thanks," Evie manages to gasp out as she untangles herself from Anderson. She taps him on the shoulder and quickly gets back to her feet. As she does so, there is a grin upon her face. "You actually gave me a fun idea."

"Hey, Saul!"

Again, two voices answer, but Saul is off to the side a bit, busy shooting enemies who would close on Evie and Anderson.

Evie points to Anderson, "Anderson."

She points to Saul, "Saul."

"Gods, keeping you two straight..." she mutters, though she is smiling.

"Okay, we're going to try a battering ram maneuver," she says quickly, since Ryder is distracted by Asami. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," Saul answers without hesitation, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Good, I want you to flat out run smack through the middle of all these guys. I'm going to be right behind you, protecting you, I'm going to use the same shield I used to protect Warner and we're going to plow down these bastards."

The staff continues to pulse with power as Lya holsters her gun and weaves and dodges through the throngs of maddened warriors and resistance fighters. "Fuck, the President's got to have the briefcase with him, right?" she mutters to herself as she searches frantically.

"I'll watch her back," Toxic says hurriedly to Klepto as she unsheathes her sword. "Get to Orithia and Phoebe and check the helicopter for the briefcase!"

"Okay, as soon as I say 'stop,' don't shoot," Evie warns Saul. "I'm pretty positive the bullet would just ricochet around in here and kill us. Okay...ready...stop!"

As soon as Saul drops his gun down into a ready-but-waiting position, Evie concentrates and drops the shield over him and herself.

"Last I saw Lya, she was over that way," Evie points in the singer's direction. "Let's go! Try to avoid our guys. And run the hell over everyone else! I've got us covered!"

The unorthodox strategy of Saul playing a juggernaut catches the enemy off-guard. More than a few of the shadow warriors go flying, misjudging his charge as something that must stop as their opponent seeks to engage them.

Unfortunately, that's neither your or Saul's intent. He barrels through them as if the room were a giant pinball table, and the enemy the bumper targets. The rest of Chief Cartwright's people begin rallying behind you, taking advantage of disoriented and scattered foes to regain their own footing and press the advantage.

"Well ... shit," Lya says, looking down at a satcom unit that has been shot apart. Fenris' work, no doubt. Except there must be a backup, in this reality or your own.

And you're running out of time ...

* * *

(Alex)

"You're not going anywhere," Alex says.

Fenris swings his other paw in a vicious sweep, but Alex catches it, just as he did in his vision, and now the two are locked in a desperate grapple, with Fenris unable to break free, and Alex occasionally leaning back from Fenris' snapping teeth.

There comes a slow, grinding sound, followed by a snap so loud it almost sounds like a gunshot, except for the howl of pain that follows. The Wolf's forearms broken, Alex whips the creature around and into an equally punishing stranglehold ...

* * *

Evie and Saul roll up to where Lya is, staring down at the broken satcom unit.

"Any luck?" Evie calls out.

"No! The damn thing is broken," Lya shoves at the useless item in frustration. "But, there's got to be a backup. Klepto has gone to check the helicopter and find Orithia and Phoebe."

"Any ideas where else to go?" Evie asks. She grins, "You can join me and Saul inside the Juggernaut Express. We can get you where you need to be in no time."

"We've got to find that radio!" Lya replies. "But we're also going to need the President if we're going to have any chance of stopping this strike. Do you think you guys can help me get him to the helicopter? If the backup is there I can wake him up to use it but we'll need you to protect him."

"You got it! Going will be a little slower while hauling him but we can do it. Grab him and stick close to Saul," Evie lifts the shield so that the others can enter.

Evie will help Toxic with the slumbering president. Saul will be busy "driving" the shield and the size difference between Lya and Toxic would make lugging an unconscious body far more awkward for them.

An inky darkness swirls about the room, but you only have a glimpse of Ryder pulling it forth out of the air, like a conductor summoning a brassy crescendo.

"I can't see!" Saul yelled.

"Left!" Evie told him, steering him towards their goal. "Table on your right, and ... straight."

* * *

(Hitoshi)

The pain is beyond physical. You feel Loki's magic flensing your very soul, bridging the two worlds with tendrils of hate and suffering. Ragnarok will sweep across realities as a mountain cataract crashes down upon the rocks below.

"Let go," you hear Hachiman's voice.

You strain, but your fingers are still locked upon the corrupted relic, if it was ever one to begin with.

"I can't," Hitoshi says.

"Not the lodestone," Hachiman says quietly. "Let go."

"Of what?!" you protest. Ever, always the taskmaster.

"Everything," Hachiman says. "The only way to catch fish is not to try."

"What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Hachiman is the crazy monk who whacks you with a stick when you fail to comprehend some bizarre koan.

"The fisherman casts his net and waits," Hachiman explains. "He does not fill it by demanding the fish do so. He reads the currents. He knows the waters. He is patient. Let go."

"Fenris ..."

_"Let go."_

"My friends ..."

_"Let go."_

"The missiles ..."

_"Let go."_

"I ... don't know how," Hitoshi finally admits.

"You have never really tried," Hachiman chides. "You have built a life around saving things and fixing things, from Akane to Lya to your classic cars. You must let go. No demands, no fears, no regrets. _Let go_."

* * *

"Come on, come on," Klepto complained as she swept her eyes across the interior of the helicopter. "Be a nice briefcase and be out in the open where I can see you." The crew were all dozing - once a Secret Service agent reported what was happening, it was enough. Which explained why the entire security contingent hadn't come crashing into the dining room.

There. The agent nearest the door had a briefcase handcuffed to his left wrist, and it wasn't likely to be the President's fantasy football picks.

"Then you'll have the keys, too," Klepto said, fishing in the man's pockets. "Let's see ... handcuff key, and this one looks like the case."

There's a sudden tapping on the helicopter and Klepto looks up with a start to see Orithia and Phoebe smiling. "Let me guess, business as usual?"

"You know it," Klepto snorts and quickly unlocks the briefcase from the mans wrist. "Now let's get this to Lya so we can save the world... again."

The Furies turn back towards the clubhouse.

"Ick... nasty evil creepy darkness up ahead," Phoebe says. "Why can't it be something traditional, like a hydra or a giant snake?"

"Triangle formation?" Orithia asks.

Phoebe shouldered her bow and drew a short sword, turning slightly so as to form a close triangle. They moved with a slow rotation that left no one's back exposed.

* * *

(Lya)

The swirling darkness floods the room, along with Ryder's laughter. Izanami had seen the the pain and darkness in Ryder's soul and exploited it with a virtuoso's touch. That he was the Scion of Hachiman makes it even more ironic. And the chilling thing is, you can see Hitoshi walking the same path, thinking he was protecting others or making a noble sacrifice. He said as much in his letter bequeathing you the Westview.

But that won't help you call off Ragnarok, or help the mortals who are now easy prey for the shadow warriors.

"We have to get where there's light," you tell Evie.

"Working on it."

* * *

(Alex)

"Gnnnnnnnh," Fenris manages to say as Alex continues wrenching at the wolf's neck.

The darkness that rises about the room is troubling, but you have no time to spare. Fenris is healing, his broken arms straightening. There's no longer any question of merely subduing your enemy, and even though legend has it differently ... you change your grip, capping Fenris's forehead ...

* * *

Inwardly, Evie curses. She can see in this inky soup just fine, but that doesn't help anyone else caught in it. And, she can't properly steer Saul while she's helping to carry the president. Certainly, she can call out directions but that's not quite as good as being able to put a hand upon his shoulder or hip to keep him on course.

She quickly glances around the field, looking for Arky. She knows where they left him, but who knows where he is, now? And, though she can see in the dark, she can't see through the multitudes of bodies or over-turned tables.

"ARKY!" she yells, trying to be heard over battle. "Can you do anything about this darkness?!"

At first, there's no response to Evie's shout, and both of you are fearful that something has happened to your friend.

"INDIANA!" shout two voices at once. And then there's a burst of brilliant light, the noon sun and then some, as Arky and his twin from the alternate reality join forces. The darkness retreats like fog being burned away by the rising sun.

Alex and Fenris are still wrestling with each other.

Asami - the young Asian woman who, somehow, is related to Hitoshi Ryder - is in the midst of a graceful but wholly unpredictable dance, bobbing and weaving around attacks that she couldn't possibly have seen amid the darkness. Her tactics shift from defensive to offensive almost immediately as Arky's flare of light changes the battlefield.

And Hitoshi - our Hitoshi - is still pinned to the ground.

"Damn!" Lya exclaims as she blinks away the spots on the edge of her vision. "Over there, the door! Let's move it like we've got a world to save, people!"

"Go, go, go!" Evie shouts, grinning even as she narrows her eyes against the brightness. She and Toxic double their efforts to haul the president and keep up with Saul.

Lya scrambles to her feet with staff in hand as she rushes blindly towards the door. _Get the radio...save the world...get the radio..._

The door slams open with a bang and an exclamation of female voices before Lya runs into a solid wall that wraps arms around her.

"Woah, Lya!" Klepto yells. "You can stop running now!"

"Shit, don't DO that!" Orithia exclaims.

"Gottagettheradio!" Lya replies breathlessly as Evie, Toxic and the two Sauls follow behind with the unconscious President between them.

"You mean this thing?" Orithia grins as she holds up the case.

"Blessed Gods on high, YES!" Lya replies with a wide grin before turning to gesture to the others. "Toxic, bar the door so we can try and do this uninterrupted!"

"You got it!" she replies as she grabs an ashtray stand and snaps off the top with her foot before jamming the bar between the handles of the two doors.

The two Sauls lay President Warner down on the ground as Evie carefully cradles his head. "You don't need to kiss him, do you?" Evie jokes with a nervous laugh.

"I think we've got enough to try to explain already," Lya laughs as she kneels down beside him and gently prods his shoulder.

"Mr. President, you need to wake up! The world needs you, Mr. President!"

"Lemme ... five," Warner mumbles sleepily. "Justalunch."

"Jacob, wake the hell up," Lya insists.

"Screw this, he's not _my_ president," Klepto says. She digs into a pressure point on Warner's right shoulder.

"Gahhhhhhhh!" Warner's eyes fly open. "Wait. Who the hell are you?"

"Welp. That'll do it," Evie mutters. She doesn't look at all sorry about anything. In fact, there is a touch of amusement, there.

Evie helps the president sit up and then turns to watch what is happening back in the clubhouse. She'll leave explanations to Lya. Evie pulls out her gun and waits patiently, ready for any attack. After all, if the enemy realizes what they are doing, they'll be swamped with attacks...

* * *

(Hitoshi)

"... no demands, no fears, no regrets," Hachiman tells his son.

"I can't, old man!" Hitoshi rages. "I have to help! I have t-"

"Then you will die," the Lord of Nets says. "_Let go_. Of everything. Of past and present and future."

Reflexively, Hitoshi's grip upon Honsho Masamune tightens. He wasn't going to just walk away from everything. He couldn't.

* * *

(Alex)

There's a grisly snapping sound as Alex breaks Fenris' neck, but the Son of Tyr does not stop or relent. He tears Fenris' head off, a task ascribed in legend to Vidar.

The remaining Jotun stumble, bereft of the fanaticism that had spilled forth from Fenris. They are caught between a line of Cartwright's people, Maenads, and - on the other side - the Scion who just tore their master in half ...

* * *

(Asami)

_Gomen'nasai,_ Asami breathes, bringing her battle fans around in a sweeping move that sever her father's right hand neatly at the wrist. She follows through with a kick that sends him sprawling atop Hitoshi.

Cerulean energies rage as the two men - different aspects, predicated on a moment of mercy - become enmeshed in the growing nexus between the worlds.

* * *

"My name is Lya Bach, Mr. President, and my friends and these brave police officers just pulled you from an assassination attempt by Senator Warner and his men inside."

"Where are my men?" he asks as he looks around hurriedly.

"Most of them were drugged along with you at the beginning of the lunch, sir," Evie replies. "When Holiwell started issuing threats and his men started attacking our main goal was to protect you."

"Because of the worst part," Lya adds.

"There's _more?"_ Warner asks incredulously as he sits up and rubs his head.

"You could say that," Lya replies as Orithia unlocks the briefcase and hands it over. "It seems that Holiwell had men loyal to himself acting on the inside... and he decided he wanted to be the President who created a new world on the ashes of an old one. So... on behalf of everyone on planet Earth, we'd all really appreciate it if you could issue the recall order."

"Justin? But he was the one who organiz-" Warner says. "Oh, hell. Where's my chief of staff? My principal agent?"

"Out cold," Evie says. "I'm Detective Evelyn Cartwright with the Las Vegas Police Department."

Warner blinks. "Wait. You were running towards me ..."

"Time for chat later," Lya insists with a beneficent smile.

"Right. Crystal Palace, Rockstar. Status!"

"Rockstar, this is Crystal Palace. Confirm identity."

"President Jacob Warner," Warner says. A light on the console flashes green, but the matching light blinks yellow.

"Voice authorization failed."

"Fuck!" Evie curses. "It was launched using the alternate briefcase."

Evie looks to Lya, hoping that what she is saying sinks in. She doesn't want to actually explain anything out loud and ruin the comfortable illusion that Lya has created for Warner...at least, not yet. It may be impossible to maintain, but there's no sense shattering it prematurely.

The launch was authorized by President Holliwell/Fenris, not President Warner. The codes are probably different.

"That's why we have a manual input code," Warner smiles. He punches in an alphanumeric code and presses ENTER.  
The lights do not change, while another indicator begins to blink.

"I don't understand, I'm sure that's the right code," Warner says. "I can try again, but if I get it wrong, the system will lock me out."

"Dammit, we need whatever codes he used!" Lya hisses. "Evie... we need to see if Holiwell has the codes on him, stat! Toxic, Orithia, back her up!"

Orithia whips her duel swords from her back scabbards and swings them into a ready stance as Toxic removes the bar from the doors. "Once more unto the breach and all that..."

"On it," Evie nods and runs back towards the club house, intent on trying to find the codes. Maybe there are some shreds of clothing left from when Holiwell transformed into Fenris that she can check. Or...she doesn't know. Something around the table where he was sitting? Another briefcase? Folders? Anything at all!

* * *

(Evie)

Inside, the battle has turned decisively. Alex is standing over Fenris' body, and ... was that a ... head ...?

Several of the Jotun are still putting up a fight, but they are no longer fighting with the same ferocity as earlier. Some of Cartwright's people manage to tackle one to the ground and subdue him; the others quickly follow.

The shadow warriors are also falling, stripped of the darkness that had engulfed the room. A part of you hopes the bodies all wind up in the proper reality, or there'll be some 'splainin to do.

"Alex! We need a code to stop the launch!" you shout. "Look for a code, some kind of password!"

Alex nods to show he heard, but Fenris' clothes are shreds of fabric scattered across where they'd fought.

_"Colonel! Time to earn your keep!"_

_Yeah, that's twisted enough for Fenris. Toss him a relic with the code to stop Ragnarok etched on it_, Alex thought.

"Evie! It's on a keychain in Hitoshi's left hand!" he shouts.

Which is a problem in and of itself - both versions of Hitoshi are embroiled in a knot of coruscating energy, and there was no way to dislodge the damned rock ...

"Holy shit..." Evie blinks, impressed by Alex. That...that had to have taken some doing. A fierce pride in her cousin swells in her chest. More than anything, though, she's just glad that Alex is alive and that bastard is dead. Screw Fenris and screw Ragnarok.

However, Alex's words reach her and she feels a distinct desire to have Fenris alive, once more, so that _she_ can rip his head off.

"Oh **come on!**" Evie shouts in frustration. With a growl of pure annoyance and desperation, she charges back over to Hitoshi's side. How to get the relic? They don't have time...there's no time...

"Give me your sword," she turns to Orithia, tear starting to form in her eyes. Softly she says, "We're going to have to cut off his hand. I can't get the damn thing, otherwise. I don't want to do it. I really don't...but I don't know what else to do and we're running out of time..."

"You know he'd give it in a heartbeat if it meant saving the world," Orithia replies as she nods towards Hitoshi. "If you like, I can make sure it's quick and clean."

"Do it," Evie says. She feels terrible guilt about asking someone else to do this thing. She is asking it. She should do it. However, Evie knows that she has zero experience with a sword and will most likely flub it up, making it more painful for Hitoshi. It's best that Orithia does it.

* * *

"Hey there, my name is Lya," Lya recites softly into the radio communicator as she kneels next to the President, "and I don't want to kill or conquer anybody. In fact, I want to help everyone, because isn't that what people do? We all want to help one another... because human beings are like that. It doesn't matter if what gender or religion or race... we all want to live by each other's happiness instead of each other's misery. In this world there's room for everyone and life can be beautiful... if we just remember our way."

"You don't have to be brutes enslaved by men who despise you and tell you what to think and feel, who drill you, treat you like cattle and use you as cannon fodder. You are not machines! You are not cattle!" her voice builds as she becomes more impassioned with her plea. "You are men and women with families and friends who all want to go home at the end of the day to remember the _good_ that being here on this planet brings... and right now only _you_ have the power to make that happen for _all_ of us. You have the power to make this life free and beautiful... and in the name of all that's holy be it love, family or freedom... I beg you to _use_ that power to turn back the machine dedicated to our destruction and say NO to the Apocalypse one...more...time."

* * *

(Evie)

Orithia nods and squeezes Evie's shoulder reassuringly. "You might want to stand back."

"Whether you live to remember this or not, my friend..." she whispers as she swings back with her sword, "be comforted that you gave your all."

_THUNK_

Hitoshi's eyes are blank, though they are clearly focused on something - just not anyone or anything within immediate reach.

"... have to help ... can't ... let go ..." he breathes.

"Forgive me, Hitoshi," Orithia says. Her sword comes down. You wince, though you've seen much worse as far as crime scenes go.

Fingers that had been locked in rigor relax, and the troublesome relic lay more loosely grasped Hitoshi's hand, but the nexus of energies continues to crackle and dance around his still-quiescent form. You reach for it, but Anderson scoops it up before you can.

"No. You're a Scion, Evie, you can't touch it," he says quietly.

The other Saul knows his Evie Cartwright is a Scion? Whoa.

* * *

(Lya)

There's a long pause on the other end.

"Rockstar, this is Crystal Palace," comes the answer, though the voice is now heavy with regret and a burden of duty. "Negative on your last, we cannot comply. Please identify."

"We've got it!" Klepto shouts, as the others rush forward, still wary of any remaining soldiers or Jotun.

Anderson pries Hitoshi's fingers open. There, attached to the keyring, is a small watch fob, a strip of metal with a sequence of numbers and letters. He calls them out.

"That has to be it," President Warner says. "If it's not, though ..."

"I for one am out of ideas if this doesn't work," Lya replies and gasps as she turns to see the hand cradled in Anderson's grasp still wearing Hitoshi's ring. She quickly turns away and wipes at her eyes as she mutters. "Do it."

"I'm sorry, Lya," Evie's stomach churns as she says the words. "I couldn't think of anything else. Maybe...maybe if I had more time I could've but...I was out of ideas. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault, Evie," Lya consoles her with a watery smile. "We all know how it goes; the good of the many outweighs the needs of the few. I'd give more than a hand if it meant we could put an end to this once and for all."

Evie nods. She, too, feels the same way. Had she died to Loki's blow, it would've been worth it to know that she played her part in ending this. It still doesn't make her feel any better, though.

"Please work," she whispers. "Please, please, be the right code..."

"Neither of you are allowed to get all weepy and sorry," Orithia said, nodding at the severed hand. "That's _his_ sideshow."

President Warner murmurs the code to himself as a double-check, then presses ENTER. The paired lights blink green.

"Crystal Palace, abort launch. I say again, abort, abort, abort," Warner says calmly, but with no mistaking the authority of his office.

"Standby," comes the answer. You realize it's not just _one_ launch, it's a series of launches by America and its allies.

"Abort order confirmed. Launch status, abort," the speaker affirms.

* * *

(Alex)

"Why can't you stay dead!?" someone shouts. "Bastard!"

Alex coughs as an arrow lances through his chest, then another. And another. All of them expertly aimed at vital organs.

"... didn't see that coming," Alex says, falling to his knees. He coughs up a reddish foam as he reaches for one of the arrows.

"Fuck," he breathes. "This is gonna hurt."

He yanks the arrow out and gives a muffled cry of pain. Fresh blood darkens a shirt already stained with blood, ichor, and grime.

"That's one," he gasps. He pulls the second out, with another gush of blood. His hand flails weakly at the third. "Been shot before, never hurt like this."  
Someone kicks him backwards, and he simply doesn't have the strength to resist.

"That's because these are dipped in hydra's blood," Parthenope hisses. "I will never forgive you for killing Phoebe."

"Stop!" shouts Bach. "Parthenope, that's not him!"

"Oh, hey, Lya, nice'a see'ya," Alex slurs. "Hurts."

"I'm sure it does," Bach says. She pulls the last arrow out. "You went toe-to-toe with Fenris. Don't give up now."

"Aaaaaah!" Alex cries out as the last arrow comes free. "Just give me a moment ... hydra's blood? If I was mortal, I'd be dead."

It's clear that Alex is healing. His voice is no longer the wet, wheezy sound of a man with a collapsed lung, but closer to normal.

"I'm not going to apologize," Parthenope said.

"For what?" Alex said. "You lost someone you cared about. Just ... just point that thing somewhere else, okay?"

* * *

(Hitoshi)

The pain of Orithia's blade coming down was lost in the searing, rending pain from the energies tearing him apart. But a small measure of the burden lifted from his spirit.  
_  
Let go._

Not a physical grip, but what Hachiman had tried to tell him. And with his hand cut off, he began to understand what the Lord of Nets was telling him. His entire life had been a defiant march against what he perceived was Hachiman's dictatorial manner, and then the just-so sensibilities of his mother. He'd cataloged each and every moment of their pestering, every time they told him he couldn't do something, or that they would not do something for him.  
What he _should_ have done was not always what he ended up doing. He'd gone to rescue Akane and failed, then blamed it on his father. He'd embarked on his crusade against the gangs, but it wasn't justice he was dispensing, it had been vengeance. And then, his clever manipulations in acquiring stock and taking over the Westview - all to show his mother that he was something more than a simple mechanic. Even in this other reality, he'd immediately launched into trying to fix things and make things better.

And none of it had amounted to anything. Estrangement. Anger. Resentment. Ragnarok.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, though he was certain there was no one to hear him.

"Let go," Hachiman said. "To learn from one's errors, one must let go of them."

As the Lord of Nets was doing now, with him. No recriminations. No more lectures.

Hitoshi let go.

* * *

Yes!" Evie whoops and bounces in a circle, finally breathing. She hadn't realized that she had been holding it. Without thinking, she spins into Saul's arms and kisses him soundly. Letting him go, she steps back and looks towards the clubhouse, "Okay. Let's go see what's left to clean up. Celebrations after we know that everything is over."

Still keeping her gun out, she strides back into the club house, not quite sure what she'll find. How will the worlds unmerge? How much will everyone remember? What will the damages be?

And, how the hell will they explain it all?

"Take _that_ you bloody Vikings!" Lya exclaims as she wipes the sweat from her brow and brings out her flask. "I'd say this definitely calls for a drink!" She takes a long swig and offers it to the President. "Some of the best whiskey mankind has to offer, sir!"

"I think it's going to take more than a flask when we get home," Klepto chuckles as she slaps a smiling Orithia on the shoulder.

Lya catches Evie heading back into the clubhouse out of the corner of her eye. "Phoebe, Toxic, don't let her go in there without back-up. No telling what's still going on." They both nod in confirmation and pull out their swords to quickly follow close behind into the clubhouse.

There's a gasp and then Toxic yells out in dismay from inside, "Phoebe, get Lya! Hurry!"

"Wait... what did you say her name was?" another female voice calls out.

Phoebe runs back out of the clubhouse with a look of dismay. "Lya... come quick... it's Hitoshi!"

"What? No...no-no-no... come on! We were so close!" Lya moans as she stands up. "Pardon, Mr. President. My guards will stay with you until we can wake your men."

She quickly runs with Phoebe back into the clubhouse. "Oh Gods... Alex? Are you OK?"

"Stings like a mother, but I'll live," he groans as he pulls out another arrow and tosses it aside. "Bout ready for that drink, though," he mutters to himself as he pulls himself into a sitting position against the wall and sighs.

"No... Hitoshi!" Lya exclaims in dismay as she sinks to her knees in front of her friend. "We just got you back!"

Hitoshi's face was peaceful. That of his twin, not so much.

The tangled knot of energies was dwindling, barely an occasional crackle of electricity. There was an odd symmetry - Hitoshi had lost his left hand; his twin, his right.

Asami kneels to retrieve Honjo Masamune.

"Put that down," Lya says.

"Iie. Hitoshi will need it when he recovers," she says.

"Recovers? He's _dead_," Lya points out.

"Here, now ... yes, that is true," Asami says. "The Lord of Nets wishes to give his son a second chance, as he did with me. But the worlds are separating, and we cannot remain in either one."

"Then where will you all go?"

"A time and place where Hitoshi can learn who he is. A samurai," Asami says. "As for myself, I will go where I am needed."

"Are you one of us? A scion? His sister?" Lya asked.

"Daughter," Asami smiles. "In one way, I never really existed. I was a thing of shadows, crafted to tempt Hitoshi and turn him away from the light. The Lord of Nets found me and rescued me, so that I could be here, at this moment. As a samurai serves his daimyo, so do I serve Hachiman."

"Come with us, Asame," Lya begs with a gentle hand over the one holding the katana. "I could introduce you to your grandmother... I have a feeling she's going to need you when I tell her about Hitoshi."

She smiles. "Not to mention I could use a friend when I try to run the hotel he left to me."

At first, Evie's face is a mask of dismay. _How? I know that he was bleeding, but surely it hasn't been long enough...?_ Knowing that she had been the one to make the call that left Hitoshi dead is like a punch to the gut. It's one thing to have a companion die in the line of fire. It's entirely another to be the one that orders that death.

However, as Asami explains, her guilt eases. Perhaps, with Hachiman's help, Hitoshi will find the happiness that he deserves. The knot in her own stomach dissolves. Still, there is a bit of a sour taste in her mouth.

"Glad you're okay, Alex," she says. "Ripping off his head? Day-um, man."

She shakes her head, smiles wryly and continues, "I'm going to go check on the others and see if anyone needs immediate help. I'll call for you, Lya, if someone is dying," Evie turns and begins to walk among the remaining people, checking upon their welfare."

"Are there any among your people who are trained paramedics?" she asks Anderson. "I can spot obvious distress, but...the not so apparent stuff? Nope."

(Evie)

"When The Break happened - everyone calls it that, but no one can really tell you what it is - martial law, police state, everyone seeming to go sort of nutso," Anderson tells you, "Social services were disbanded or ... restructured. At first, we tried to fight from within ... until orders to arrest our leadership came down, like it was World War II. The department disbanded. Months later, we - the officers who really cared, people who'd devoted their lives to law and order - ended up, well, on the same side of the fight. Sorry about the ramble, but, yes - we have some paramedics and firefighters among us."

"Ramble away. All knowledge is valuable," Evie smiles and waves off the apology. Though the likelihood that she will ever see the people of this reality again is slim, she still files the information away."Excellent. Have one of your people quickly do a triage. If they find anyone who looks like they won't survive to reach a hospital when our worlds separate, call our Lya. She can heal. But, we're extremely short on time, so she can probably only get the to the worst before all this sorts itself out."

(Lya)

"Yes. I will accompany you, though I do not know if I can stay," Asami says. "First, I must see to the tasks that are still before me."  
She holds Honjo aloft, as if offering it to her liege lord. A swirl of golden motes rises about her, and she fades from sight, along with the bodies of Hitoshi and his 'evil twin.'

"'Bout ready for that drink now," Alex moans. "Oh, gods, one more."

"Shush," Lya says, soothingly. And then she reaches up and jerks the remaining arrow out without any wind-up or hesitation.

Alex bites back a cry of pain, and with good reason. Parthenope's arrows weren't just envenomed, the heads were triangular barbs. The Maenad looked up as someone called out Phoebe's name.

"Wait! What did you sa- Phoebe? It can't be you!" she exclaims. "I watched you di- I saw that bastard North kill you."

"We all did," said Leucosia. She glanced down at Alex. "He shot her in the head."

"Wasn't me," Alex protested weakly. "Didn't do it."

"Don't expect me to apologize," Parthenope sneered.

Alex raised his hands. "I'm not asking you to. You thought you were avenging a friend. A sister."

"I'm honored, Sisters," Phoebe says. "I'd fight beside this warrior any day."

"Look, I'd love to stick around and chat," said Bach. "But I don't think we're out of the woods just yet. My people need to go to ground, until we sort things out. With Fenris out of the picture, we'll have a better shot at returning things to normal."

* * *

(Hitoshi)

He woke to sunlight filtering through bamboo blinds. The smell of smoke and blood was gone, replaced by the refreshing smell of clean air in the wake of a storm.

A moment of fear touched his heart. His hand. Orithia had cut it off to access the relic he'd caught, and with which he'd almost unleashed Ragnarok. But his hand was whole, with not even a weal upon his forearm.

"You're awake," someone says softly. Akane.

"I didn't dream ..."

"No, Hitoshi, you didn't," she smiled.

Hitoshi looked around. This wasn't his residence at the Westview. He was in a room of traditional Japanese design, lying upon a futon. He was dressed in a kimono, as was Akane.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere we can start over," she said. "Both of us."

She slid open the shoji doors and he looked out over a forest at a snow-capped Fujiyama.

"We're in Japan?" he marvelled. "How? Where are the others?"

"I do not know," Akane told him. "They are of another time and place; we are here. The Master will be waiting."

"Master? You mean my father?"

"No. I mean Master Goro," she said.

"Master Gor-" Hitoshi began, broke off. It couldn't be, he told himself. He was in Japan, in simpler settings. And the only master named Goro would be Goro Nyudo Masamune, the Master swordsmith.

"Let me help you dress, Hitoshi," Akane smiled, assisting him with the unfamiliar garments. And then he walked quickly to a courtyard below, where one could feel the heat from the forge, and hear the steady tapping of a smith's hammer.

"Ohayo, Hitoshi-san," the older man said. "Are you ready to begin?"

"I must admit I do not know what I am doing."

"The first step to true knowledge," Masamune told him. "We begin with the saetsu ..."

* * *

Lya hands her flask to a grateful Alex and dusts her knees off before turning to her counterpart with a smile and a tilt of her head. "It was an honor to meet you guys, and it does my heart good to know that even in other worlds I'm still fighting the good fight... but maybe... " she looks over the gathering of grim and tired eco-fighters, "take some time to remind yourselves and the people that good things still exist to fight for."

She winks and holds out her hand to shake. "I hear music is good for that."

"Nice to know that even when I'm in a poncy suit I still have the balls to fight for what's right," the other Lya chuckles in response as she returns the handshake. "Sorry about the misunderstanding," she adds quietly as she nods towards Alex.

"I hate to say it, but I think he might be getting used to it," Lya replies as they both break out in laughter.

"I talked to my sisters, and we wanted to give you something," Parthenope says as she walks up to Phoebe with a quiver in her hand. "This was hers... and we'd like you to have it."

"Dimensions may separate us, but we will always be sisters," Phoebe replies as she takes the quiver and holds out her hand. "I am honored and will carry it with pride."

Parthenope clasps forearms with Phoebe and leans in to add with a grin, "There's a little vial of something special in the bottom... for those special occasions."

"Hey, maybe you should check if Fenris' blood is poisonous," Alex laughs. "He's got to be good for something."  
He makes a note to go through the dead man's pockets for other potential relics. Maybe even his own self, though it seemed as if he were being kept apart from his divine heritage as a means of control. But it wouldn't do to have a mortal happen upon a potent relic and unknowingly cause more damage. The same for Loki and Soleil Hunter in their own world.

He takes a deep drink from Lya's flask before handing it back.

"Now that's the ticket," he says. He starts to get up. "Search all of the dead Scions and divines. Tokens, relics, weapons, whatever - let's make sure we're not leaving anything behind."

As Anderson hurries off, Saul moves to stand beside Evie. "So, Scion," he says. He slips his hand in hers, "You got some 'splaining to do, Lucy."

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. I really should have warned you, last night. But, I was a touch preoccupied," both Evie and Saul blush, recalling their evening together.

"But, anyway," she continues, "You've seen Percy Jackson, right?"

Saul nods, "Yeah."

"Well, it's real. All of it. And, not just the Greek gods. All of them...Nordic, Greek, Chinese, Japanese...and they do come to Earth, now and again, to sire children. Like the heroes of old, it falls to us to stop stuff like this," she gestures to where Fenris' body lay, still and bloody. "That was Fenris. The man I shot? That was Loki. We just stopped Ragnarok."

Saul looks around the battlefield, his brow furrowed as he takes it all in. The bloody battle, the shadows and magic, the knowledge that everything came very close to ending in a giant mushroom cloud of death. His arms encircle Evie in a tight hug, the enormity of it all catching up to him now that it is over.

"So, what now?" he asks, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

"I don't know. We see what's what when the two realities separate and sort out the mess. After that...back to life as usual, I guess," she smiles and shrugs.

He nods. After a second, his usual devil-may-care grin is back in place. The disaster has been averted, after all, "So, who's your parent?"

"Heimdall."

"Heimdall? Heim...oh, geeze. The guy who stands on the Bifrost and watches everything?" Saul says, a blush returning to his cheeks.

"That's him," Evie says. She pulls back from Saul a bit, taking in his embarrassed expression. After a second or two, she realizes what is bothering him. Unable to help herself, she starts laughing. It starts as a giggle and quickly escalates to full-throated, guffaws.

"It's not funny!" Saul protests, even though he, too, is starting to laugh.

"Yes, it is," Evie says, wiping at her eyes. "Okay, okay. Yes, he sees everything I see. But, let me just re-enact how that moment probably played out on the Bifrost."

Evie stands straight and tall, taking on a serious expression. She mimes swiping through screens on a touchpad as she mutters, "Let's see what's going on with Evie. Aw, look at that! Good for them. Let's see what's going on in Nilfheim..." she continues to swipe, them stops and gestures in exasperation at the imaginary Vantage before her. "Frost giants! Aw, man...this is why we can't have nice things."

"Come on, let's go check on...us...(man, that's weird) and see if they need a hand before everything rights itself," Evie says. Saul nods and follows, the two of them making their way across the room.

Cartwright stands in the middle of it all, coordinating her people. Anderson stands at her side, presumably telling her what happened elsewhere while she was busy in thick of the fight.

As they draw near, Evie calls out, "Anything we can help with?"

"Before we all go our separate ways you know I've got to do it," Lya calls out to the room as she pulls her smart phone out of her pocket. "Come on everybody... group selfie time! Non-Scions too... we were all in this together now..."

Several selfies are taken with various phones and cameras. Lya recognizes the post-performance high, every bit as contagious as the creeping chaos she can unleash, and lets it run its course.

Tables are righted and dressed, and while there's no hiding the dead bodies of Loki or Soleil Hunter, the shattered window and assorted bullet holes lend credence to a tale of a concerted attempt on the President's life.

Alex makes sure his photo collection includes the decapitated Fenris, as well as Loki and Skoll. And as Alex collects items that might be relics, he removes a ring from Holliwell's finger, and the Congressman's appearance resolves into that of Jason Lyman.

President Warner, still looking a bit incredulous, is kept under guard by Klepto and Orithia. "Let me get this straight," he said. "Some of you are the children of the gods. Not God as any of the major faiths have it, but Zeus and Odin and Ra, stuff we were all told was ancient mythology. And this was an end-of-the-world scenario. We're safe."

"Not entirely. There are still gods who don't want mankind to supplant them or forget them," Alex said.

"It's up to you - and the rest of humanity - to make the right choices," Lya points out.

"Should I be putting your names on speed dial?" Warner smiles weakly.

"It won't always be us, Mr. President," Arky says. "But the children of the gods will be there, watching."

"This feels like the day they showed me the football," Warner sighs. "The power to end the world, and trusting that I'm wise enough not to invoke it."

"Glad to see that you didn't let the PD curl up and die," Evie says to Cartwright, as they work to right tables, making the place seem more like an assassination attempt and less like a bar brawl. "And disguising yourselves as taxi drivers? Genius!"

Cartwright blinks, "How do you know about that?"

"I did some recon while I was on the Bifrost. I saw you coordinating your people," Evie answers. "So, do you think you'll be able to put things to rights, now that Holliwell is out of the way?"

"It's going to be a long haul," Cartwright answers, pausing to wipe her sweating brow upon her shoulder. "There are still Holliwell supporters in the political and military ranks. But, I'm hoping that now that he's dead, things will get easier. What about you? What's ahead in your world?"

"Back to business as usual, I wager. There'll be a big media bruhaha about an assassination attempt on Warner, but it'll blow over. It'll be back to crime scenes and cold cases for me, patrols for Saul. That's not a bad thing, though. I can go back to quietly watching for strange shit."

"Oh! I almost forgot...I wonder if Jacob and Justin are still here, or if this freed them?" Evie looks around, trying to spot the two ghost boys.

"Who are they?" Anderson and Saul ask, almost simultaneously. Both men grin and exclaim, "Jinx!" The two of them are having way too much fun with themselves.

"The ghosts of two boys that Loki and Fenris killed to start the sympathetic magic that would make the club a place of power," Evie answers.

(Evie)

As you glance around, you realize Jacob is holding his younger friend. Doubtless, they'd seen most of the combat, including the grisly end of Justin's namesake in the form of Fenris.

"Hey," Alex says, to Jacob. "It's all right."

"No, it's not. It reminded us both of ... well, that night," Jacob says. "Justin wasn't ready for it then, but all of this? And there was nowhere to run, just like before."

"You were both very brave, and you helped us out," Alex said. "Let me try and help you, now."

He bows his head and then looks skyward, his arms spread in supplication.

"Heimdall. All-Father. You must be watching," he says. "Maybe I'm the last person you want to speak to, but these two boys have been bound here past their them home."

Silence.

"I guess we're stuck here," Jacob says.

There is a sudden radiance as Valeria appears.

"Jacob Warner. Justin Holliwell," she says. "The All-Father has heard the Son of Tyr's intercession on your behalf. Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Jacob asks.

"Valhalla. You have been judged to be as valorous as any warrior."

"What's Vahalla?" Justin asks, timidly.

"A place where the brave and valorous live forever," Valeria tells them.

"Will we see our parents there?" Jacob asks.

"When it is their time," she says. She smiles at Alex. "It's not _your_ time. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Does that mean ... I'm forgiven?"

"One does not slay the Fenris Wolf to be turned out into the cold," Valeria told him. "All of Asgard is learning of your deed. But you have more tasks before you still."

"So ... dinner next Saturday?" Alex winks.

"I'll call you."

"It was an honor, Mister President," Lya replies as she shakes his hand. "Lesson learned for all of us, I think, to know that there are people out there who would rather hasten the end of the world than deal with the mess they've created out of it. For all our sake, I hope you and those who follow in your footsteps never become such a person. And if you ever need someone to talk to, my door at the Pantheon Hotel is always open."

"I can't say it was a pleasure, Ms. Bach... but I am glad to know that despite the state of the world today, people such as yourselves of different nationalities and religions still come together when the world is in need. It gives me hope that the rest of us can follow your example some day."

Lya shakes his hand and bows with a smile before turning to catch the exchange between Alex and Valeria. "What I tell you?" Lya chuckles as she walks by Alex to grab Arky in a hug.

"Can't thank you enough, cousin... you came through time and time again when we needed you, in this world as well as others."

She keeps one arm about his shoulders as she takes her camera in her other hand and poses with a peace sign as Arky offers a wide grin. "Here's to the start of something beautiful where we can focus on putting the good back into the world..."

"Instead of just working to stop the bad," Arky finishes with a nod. "You know I'll be there, cousin... I've got ideas just ready to burst out of my head," he chuckles.

"When I'm done drinking tonight, with any luck I'll feel the same," Lya replies with a grin.

"Good!" Evie smiles and nods, having watched Alex's exchange. Those boys deserved to be freed after so long. And, damn straight that Alex deserved forgiveness. If after all that they had been through, Alex had not been allowed his happiness, well...there would have been words.

"What happened?" asks Saul, who was unable to see the boys, so he missed half of what was going on.

"Alex asked Odin to free the boys from Earth, and he agreed. They get to go to Valhalla. Now, we just need to do the same thing for Thomas," Evie answers as she wipes her hands on her pants, smudging dirt down her thighs.

"Thomas?" again, Saul looks so, so very lost.

"Thomas Cardinelli. From the Cardinelli case," Evie smiles and shakes her head. "Sorry. I know I'm dumping a lot of information of your head all at once. He was a Son of Tyr. He's still stuck here, too. Not _here_ here. He's at the cemetery."

"Sooooo, you..." Saul grins, and she knows exactly where he's going with this...

"...see dead people. Yes," Evie laughs and finishes the sentence with him.

_"... have released this composite sketch of the sniper, while federal agents and Las Vegas Police continue their search for the suspect and any possible associates. Outside the Las Vegas Country Club, Megan Whittaker, KLAS-TV."_

"Somehow, leaving all of you out of the story doesn't seem fair," President Warner said. "You prevented an assassination, stopped an international incident, and the end of the world according to mythology that isn't mythology after all."

"It's not our intention to start new religions or renew old ones," Alex told him. "We're just glad we were here when you needed us."

"I'll find a way to recognize what you've done ... for all of us," Warner smiled. "Even if the public never learns the whole story, I can't let your actions go unrecognized."

Evie shakes her head at the president's words, "I don't need anything. I'm just happy that everything should go back to normal. I've had quite enough of fighting off doomsday."

She thinks for a moment, tilting her head to the side, "You really want to do something to thank us? Then make the world a better place, Mr. President. Make sure that the public schools get the funding they need. Take care of the sick and injured who can't care for themselves. Give kids a place to get off the streets. House the poor. Trust me, you do those things and you'll be making everyone's lives better and I'll have much easier job."

Lya nods at Evie's words. "I was living on the street and dealing with gang life as a means of survival when this all started," Lya adds. "My cousin Arky was the leader of a homeless commune living in abandoned utility pipes and infrastructure. The best way to thank us is to not forget that we came from the disenfranchised forgotten that slips through the government cracks... and to create programs that help people like us in the future." She winks and smiles. "You never know where the next savior of the world will come from."

"I'll do my best," President Warner says. "I know some of my political colleagues don't see people unless there's a dollar sign or a vote attached. But if you ever need ... a favor ... you know where to find me.


End file.
